BV  4253  .S53 

Shannon,  Frederick  F.  1877 

1947. 
The  enchanted  universe 


\^ri^    »  /  -tL. 


THE   ENCHANTED   UNIVERSE 


The  Enchanted  Universe 

AND    OTHER  SERMONS  "^'f  ^^ 


BY 

FREDERICK   F.    SHANNON 

PASTOR    OF   TH«    RIFORMID    CHURCH-0N-THE-KEIGHT8,    BROOKLYN,    H.    Y. 

Author  of  "  The  Soul's  Atlas,"   *•  The  New  Personality,"  Etc. 


New  York  Chicaqo  Toronto 

Fleming   H.  Revell   Company 

London   and   Edinbubqh 


Copyright,  I9i6»  by 
FI-EMING  H.  REVELL  COMPANY 


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Chicago:  17  N.  Wabash  Ave. 
Toronto:  25  Richmond  St.,  W., 
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CONTENTS 

I.  The  Enchanted  Universe 9 

II.  The  Untroubled  Heart 29 

III.  The  Light  of  the  World 46 

IV.  The  Religion  of  Childhood 62 

V.  The  Higher  Unity 75 

VI.  The  One  Touch  More 91 

VII.  Religion  As   Life 106 

VIII.  God's  Use  of  Affliction 125 

IX.  The  Christian's  Wealth 139 

X.  The  Final  Candour 159 

XL  The  Shepherd  God I75 

XII.  The  Larger  Education    ......  189 


\ 


THE  ENCHANTED  UNIVERSE  * 

"  And  the  Lord  God  formed  man  of  the  dust  of  the 
ground,  and  breathed  into  his  nostrils  the  breath  of  life; 
and  man  became  a  living  soul." — Gen.  ii  :  7. 

A  PROPHET  of  the  soul  declared  that  the 
universe,  vast  and  broad  and  deep  and 
high,  is  a  handful  of  dust  which  God  en- 
chants. Man  and  his  universe,  the  soul  and  its 
physical  setting,  is  a  subject  which  has  commanded 
the  supreme  thinkers  of  the  race.  Toiling  upon 
this  problem,  Kant  asked  four  questions.  First, 
has  the  world  a  beginning,  and  is  there  any  limit 
of  its  extension  in  space?  Second,  is  there  a 
thinking  self,  an  indivisible  and  indestructible  unity, 
or  does  nothing  exist  but  what  is  divisible  and  per- 
ishable ?  Third,  am  I  free  in  my  acts,  or  am  I,  like 
other  beings,  led  by  the  hand  of  nature  and  of  fate  ? 
Fourth,  is  there  a  Supreme  Cause  of  the  world, 
or  do  the  objects  of  nature  and  their  order  form  the 
last  object  which  we  can  reach  in  all  our  specula- 
tion?    For  the   solution  of  these  problems,   says 

*  Delivered  at  the  83d  New  York  Congregational  Confer- 
ence, Binghamton,  N.  Y.,  May  17,  1916.  '  Repeated  by  re- 
quest in  the  Broadway  Tabernacle  Church,  June  18,  1916. 

9 


10       THE  ENCHANTED  UNIVERSE 

Kant,  the  mathematician  would  gladly  sacrifice  the 
whole  of  his  science,  which  cannot  give  him  any 
satisfaction  with  regard  to  the  highest  and  dearest 
aspirations  of  mankind. 

It  is  evident,  therefore,  that  my  subject,  while 
an  old  one,  is  always  new.  It  is  old  in  the  sense 
that  the  text  is  one  of  the  earhest  expressions  of 
man's  double  nature — a  creature  of  dust  and  a 
child  of  divinity.  It  is  agelessly  new  because  man 
is  abidingly  interested  in  his  own  place  and  stand- 
ing in  the  vast  scheme  of  things.  His  position  is 
set  forth  in  the  Bible  not  only  with  insistent  and 
powerful  emphasis,  but  with  a  grandeur  that  is 
not  even  approached  in  all  the  literature  of  the 
world.  This  particular  passage  is  but  one  of  many 
memorable  expressions  of  man's  enchanted  uni- 
verse, of  his  lower  and  higher  relationships. 


Man's  relation  to  matter  is  thus  stated  in  the  first 
part  of  my  text :  "  The  Lord  God  formed  man  of 
the  dust  of  the  ground."  And  what  is  this  dust 
of  the  ground,  this  dust  of  the  stars,  this  dust  of 
the  material  universe — this  strange,  illusive,  un- 
stitched, ever-fluttering  garment  of  matter,  in 
which  Deity  clothes  Himself,  out  of  which  man 
leases  his  house  of  dust  for  a  few  brief  summers 
and  winters?  Well,  that  is  a  difficult  question  in- 
deed.    Nobody  has  told  us  what  matter  is  for  the 


THE  ENCHANTED  UNIVERSE       11 

very  good  reason  that  nobody  knows.  Matter  is  a 
kind  of  Sphinx,  a  sort  of  mental  monster,  challeng- 
ing every  philosophic  passerby,  every  scientific  ques- 
tion-monger, to  guess  its  true  character.  The 
guessers  have  been  many,  from  the  earliest  times 
until  now,  but  the  Sphinx,  angered  by  their  igno- 
rance, has  systematically  slain  them  all.  Thus  far 
no  Oedipus  has  happened  along  to  reveal  the  secrets 
of  the  Sphinx  of  Matter.  So  mysterious,  so  un- 
fathomable, is  the  problem,  that  thinkers  are  con- 
tent to  speak  simply  of  the  properties,  or  charac- 
teristics, of  matter.  That  is  all  I  propose  doing 
at  this  juncture  of  my  subject. 

•  A  well-known  property  of  matter  is  that  of  posi- 
tion. Suppose  you  are  on  a  trolley  car  going  west 
at  the  rate  of  seven  miles  an  hour.  You  rise  in 
the  car  and  walk  due  east  exactly  seven  miles  an 
hour  also.  Have  you  changed  your  position?  Yes 
and  no.  So  far  as  the  car  is  concerned,  you  have 
unquestionably  altered  your  position;  so  far  as  the 
earth  is  concerned,  you  have  not  shifted  your  posi- 
tion a  hair's-breadth.  Thus  relativity  is  a  big  fac- 
tor in  thought,  in  life,  in  the  universe.  So  matter, 
in  the  presence  of  the  universe  of  spirit,  has  only 
a  relative  existence.  This  is  the  conclusion  of  all 
the  great  religions  of  the  race. 

Another  characteristic  of  matter  is  motion.  The 
physical  universe,  from  the  mightiest  whirling  fixed 
star  to  the  minutest  dancing  electron,  is  on  the  move, 
going    furiously,    tremendously.      Woe   betide   the 


la       THE  ENCHANTED  UNIVERSE 

human  passenger  who  complacently  boards  the  solar 
train  of  planets  and  vows,  in  his  conservative  soul, 
that  he  will  not  budge  an  inch!  Why,  before  he 
has  had  time  to  conceive  the  thought,  the  Great 
Engineer  has  already  hurled  him  far  onward  into 
space.  Simon  Newcomb  says  that  the  greatest  fact 
the  human  intellect  has  brought  to  light  is  this: 
Through  all  history  our  system  has  been  rushing 
through  space,  at  inconceivable  speed,  toward  the 
constellation  Lyra.  Every  second  we  are  ten  miles 
nearer  that  constellation,  every  day  we  are  nearer 
it  by  a  million  miles.  This  has  been  going  on  since 
before  the  creation  of  man,  and  the  astronomer 
thinks  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  it  will  continue 
to  our  remotest  posterity.  But  when  our  system 
has  reached  the  position  in  space  now  occupied  by 
Vega,  the  most  brilliant  star  in  the  constellation 
Lyra,  think  you  that  we  shall  have  overtaken  our 
stellar  quarry?  By  no  means!  They  will  have 
rushed  onward  into  space  just  as  far  in  advance  of 
our  panting,  exhausted,  pursuing  solar  system  as 
they  are  at  present.  In  view  of  the  fact,  then,  that 
all  matter,  whatever  it  is,  is  in  ceaseless  motion, 
let  me  ask  you  this  question:  Has  the  house  in 
which  you  live  moved  during  the  last  ten  years,  or 
even  in  the  past  six  months?  Again — yes  and  no. 
With  reference  to  the  houses  on  either  side  of  it, 
your  house  has  not  perceptibly  moved  r  but  just 
how  far  your  house  has  moved  with  reference  to 
the  Earth,  Mercury,  Venus,  Jupiter,  the  Sun,  and 


THE  ENCHANTED  UNIVERSE        13 

the  fixed  stars,  which  are  anything  but  "  fixed/'  I 
would  not  dare  to  say.  But  I  will  venture  this :  If 
your  house,  in  common  with  all  matter — your 
physical  body  included — has  not  moved  365,000,000 
miles  in  the  last  twelvemonth,  and  72,000  miles  in 
the  last  two  hours — that  is,  within  the  time  you  left 
it,  came  to  church,  and  reach  home  again — then 
Newton,  Herschel,  Newcomb,  and  a  vast  multitude 
of  great  minds,  are  terrible  prevaricators  and  utterly 
unworthy  of  credence.  Verily,  this  dust  of  the 
earth,  with  which  the  Almighty  has  magnificently 
walled  you,  is  in  constant  and  immeasurable  motion ! 

Another  property  of  matter  is  hardness.  But 
the  scientist  knows  that  matter  is  only  relatively 
hard.  Here  is,  for  example,  some  water,  lard,  iron, 
and  steel.  Is  not  water  soft?  Compared  with  lard, 
yes;  but  compared  with  many  gases,  water  is  ex- 
ceedingly hard.  But  is  not  lard  soft?  Compared 
with  iron,  lard  is  soft;  but  compared  with  water, 
lard  is  hard.  But,  surely,  iron  is  hard!  Yes,  in- 
deed, until  you  put  it  alongside  of  steel,  and  then 
iron  is  measurably  soft,  for  the  engineer  is  habitually 
speaking  of  "  soft  iron."  The  disguises  of  matter, 
you  see,  are  so  many  and  varied  as  to  be  intellectu- 
ally appalling.  That  is  one  reason,  I  take  it,  why 
no  one  is  able  to  state  precisely  what  matter  is. 
All  matter  partakes  of  a  kind  of  divine  enchant- 
ment, and  its  so-called  hardness  is  one  of  its 
enchanting  characteristics. 

A  still  further  property  of  matter  is  solidity.    We 


14       THE  ENCHANTED  UNIVERSE 

speak  of  solid  matter — a  solid  globe,  or  a  solid  rock. 
If  we  know  what  we  mean,  well  and  good.  But 
when  we  talk  to  a  trained  physicist  or  philosopher 
about  matter  being  "  solid,"  we  must  needs  be  on 
our  scientific  guard.  The  best  spectroscope,  ac- 
cording to  Professor  Duncan,  detects  one-half  of 
one  millionth  of  a  cubic  centimeter  of  gas,  but  for 
determining  minute  particles  of  matter,  the  ultra- 
microscope  is  thirty-seven  trillion  thirty-one  billion 
times  more  powerful  than  the  spectroscope.  Weap- 
oned,  therefore,  with  the  spectroscope,  the  ultra- 
microscope,  the  spinthariscope,  the  electrometer, 
and  a  hundred  other  marvellous  instruments,  the 
scientist  knows  that  solidity,  as  applied  to  matter, 
is  a  mere  convenience  of  speech.  Some  time  ago  a 
friend  sent  me  a  load  of  wood.  Not  being  an  ex- 
pert woodsman,  much  of  that  wood  is  still  in  our 
cellar.  Once  in  awhile,  urged  by  true  Gladstonian 
fervour,  I  go  down  and  chop  or  saw.  Usually,  I 
am  easily  convinced  that  my  wood  is  both  hard  and 
solid.  Consequently,  before  many  sticks  are  severed, 
I  am  perfectly  content  to  walk  away  and  let  the 
scientist  argue  on  as  to  the  solidity  or  non-solidity 
of  matter.  However,  my  conclusion  does  not  alter 
the  facts  even  slightly.  The  wood,  of  course,  is 
composed  of  minute  particles — molecules,  atoms, 
electrons — and  all  are  in  such  a  whirling  vortex 
that  Descartes  was  led  to  undertake  to  explain  even 
the  formation  of  the  universe  itself  by  his  theory 
of  vortices.     So  the  matter  composing  your  body. 


THE  ENCHANTED  UNIVERSE        15 

as  well  as  the  matter  composing  the  billion-miled 
universe,  is  only  relatively  solid. 

I  will  mention  only  one  other  characteristic  of 
matter,  but  one  of  the  most  interesting  of  all, 
owing  to  the  law  of  gravity.  Matter  has  the  very 
definite — and  indefinite  also — property  of  size.  The 
unit  may  be  the  electron,  infinitely  small,  or  a  star, 
incalculably  large.  But  the  consideration  of  size, 
in  studying  matter,  influenced  as  it  is  by  gravita- 
tion, cannot  be  overlooked.  Here  is  a  fountain  pen. 
Suppose  I  want  to  increase  its  size  or  mass  once 
again.  How  can  it  be  done?  In  two  ways:  first, 
I  may  add  just  as  much  more  fountain  pen,  doubling 
the  size ;  second,  without  increasing  the  mass  at  all, 
I  may  make  the  fountain  pen  weigh  just  twice  as 
much  by  doubling  the  size  of  the  earth.  I  do  not 
say  that  I  am  seriously  thinking  of  undertaking  the 
latter  alternative ;  I  only  mean  to  say  that  scientists 
say  this  is  one  way  of  doing  it.  It  is  interesting  to 
remember,  in  passing,  that  Newton  did  not  employ 
the  inductive  method  in  making  the  greatest  dis- 
covery of  modern  times.  As  thinkers,  we  believe 
in  the  inductive  method — getting  our  facts,  then 
our  conclusions.  But  Newton,  by  intuition,  or 
genius,  or  whatever  you  wish  to  call  it,  first  got  the 
idea  of  gravity  and  then  assembled  his  facts  in 
support  of  it.  "  As  he  foresees,"  says  Carl  Snyder, 
**that  the  calculations  will  verify  his  surmise,  his 
hand  trembles  so  that  he  must  lay  down  his  pen." 
It  is  one  of  the  supremely  romantic  chapters  in  the 


16       THE  ENCHANTED  UNIVERSE 

history  of  thought — or  inspiration.  Well,  according 
to  Newton  and  others,  the  force  of  gravity  at  the 
sun's  surface  is  twenty-seven  times  greater  than 
that  of  the  earth.  Let  me  assume,  therefore,  that 
you  are  a  man — it  would  take  a  very  courageous 
preacher  to  borrow  this  illustration  with  its  in- 
ferences, from  woman — and  weigh  150  pounds. 
Now  if  you  could  be  transferred  to  the  surface  of 
the  sun,  you  would  weigh  4050  pounds,  and  be 
literally  crushed  beneath  your  own  weight.  Is  it 
not  perfectly  safe  to  take  for  granted,  considering 
this  enormous  increase  in  weight,  that  no  woman 
would  like  to  take  up  her  residence  in  the  sun  ?  That 
is  why  the  illustration  is  strictly  confined  to  the 
masculine  gender. 

These,  then,  are  some  of  the  characteristics  of 
matter.  The  thing  itself  is  not  fully  known.  But 
we  are  justified  in  thinking  that  matter  is  the  servant 
of  mind  or  spirit.  "  The  presence  of  mind,"  said 
Sir  John  Herschel,  "  is  what  solves  the  whole  prob- 
lem of  the  material  universe."  Certainly  nothing 
less  than  mind  can  solve  the  mystery,  and  nothing 
less  than  mind  can  give  a  satisfactory  reason  for 
the  existence  of  the  worlds  of  matter  at  all.  These 
immeasurable  physical  fields  must  be  for  the  ex- 
ercise of  spirit.  Mind  has  gone  into  their  making; 
they  are  built  on  mathematical  laws  and  baptized 
with  intelligence  from  thickest  cfust  to  thinnest 
vapour;  and,  therefore,  mind  is  looking  out  of  their 
every  atom  and  star.     The  universe  is  just  a  vast 


THE  ENCHANTED  UNIVERSE        17 

autograph  album.  Its  covers  are  wrought  of  matter 
bound  up  in  myriads  of  forms ;  its  pages  are  mole- 
cules and  constellations,  planets  and  electrons, 
mountains  and  motes;  and  God  has  written  His 
signature  upon  every  single  page,  whether  gigantic- 
ally large  or  microscopically  small. 


II 

The  latter  half  of  my  text  distinctly  states  man's 
relation  to  spirit :  "  And  the  Lord  God  breathed  into 
man's  nostrils  the  breath  of  life;  and  man  became  a 
living  soul."  Physically  speaking,  a  human  being 
is  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made.  But  the 
physical  existence  borrows  its  meaning  from  the 
spiritual;  man  is  a  creature  of  inconceivable  affilia- 
tions; he  breaks  bounds,  exhausts  the  categories  of 
time  and  sense,  thrusts  the  roots  of  his  nature  deep 
into  the  soil  of  eternity,  and,  weeping  over  his  weak- 
ness and  imperfection,  rejoices  with  joy  unspeak- 
able that  he  is  the  child  of  God  and  the  heir  of 
imperishable  glory.  In  his  transfigured  moods,  man 
is  vividly  and  profoundly  conscious  of  his  celestial 
backgrounds.  Like  the  psalmist,  he  then  crushes 
the  external  universe  to  a  handful  of  dust  within  his 
strong  spiritual  grasp,  and  declares :  "  Whom  have 
I  in  Heaven  but  Thee?  And  there  is  none  upon 
earth  that  I  desire  beside  Thee." 

But  there  are  those  who  deny  man's  august  kin- 
ship to  the  overarching,  soliciting,  intelligent  and 


18       THE  ENCHANTED  UNIVERSE 

intelligible  realm  of  the  spiritual.  I  find  some  of 
these  atheists  in  hiding  in  my  own  house  of  dust. 
They  are  those  clever  traitors  named  my  five  senses. 
While  here  on  earth  I  cannot  get  on  without  them, 
because  they  are  the  nervous  wires  by  which  I  com- 
municate with  the  outer  world,  by  which  the  outer 
world  communicates  with  me.  I  call  them  my  Court 
Fools.  They  have  their  essential  place  in  my  court 
of  life;  but  like  all  infidels,  they  assume  entirely  too 
much.  For  the  moment,  therefore,  I  am  going  to 
put  some  of  these  couriers  of  sensation  on  the 
witness  stand. 

First  of  all,  I  introduce  Mr.  Touch.  Before  he 
leaves  the  stand,  he  will  have  earned  the  reputation 
of  being  one  of  the  biggest  dunces  infesting  my 
entire  realm.  **  What  is  your  business,  Mr. 
Touch  ?  "  I  ask.  "  I  am  in  most  intimate  relations 
with  your  brain,  sir,"  he  replies,  somewhat 
haughtily.  "  I  am  an  expert  telegrapher,  and  my 
business  is  to  keep  you  informed  as  to  your  deal- 
ings with  matter  and  space.  For  example,  I  send 
a  telegram  to  your  brain  which  reads :  *  The  space 
with  which  you  are  in  contact  is  occupied  by  matter ; 
and  the  substance  is  either  hard  or  soft  in  com- 
parison to  your  body.'  "  "  You  are  a  very  good 
servant,  Mr.  Touch,"  "  Indeed  I  am,  sir,  and  very 
smart,  too."  *' How  much  do  you  know?" 
"Everything  there  is  to  be  known  in ^ the  physical 
universe,  sir."  *'  Be  careful,  Mr.  Touch,  or  you'll 
perjure  yourself."     "I'm  not  afraid;  I  can  touch 


THE  ENCHANTED  UNIVERSE        19 

all  there  is,  seen  and  unseen."  "Are  you  sure?" 
"  Absolutely  sure !  "  "  You  know,  Mr.  Touch,  that 
it  takes,  chemically  speaking,  two  atoms  of  hydrogen 
and  one  atom  of  oxygen  to  make  a  molecule  of 
water.  Suppose  you  multiply  your  atoms  of  hydro- 
gen and  oxygen  until  you  have  several  molecules 
of  water.  Now,  let  me  ask  you,  Mr.  Touch,  if  you 
have  ever  placed  your  hand  upon  the  gigantic  forces 
at  work  between  molecule  and  molecule  ?  "  "  Well, 
I  can't  say  that  I  have."  "  You  know  that  the 
chemist  has  been  wrestling  with  that  problem  a  long 
time,  do  you  not  ?  "  "  And  what  does  he  think  ?  " 
"  Just  this :  That  if  the  atomic  and  molecular  forces 
contained  in  a  single  drop  of  water  were  suddenly 
liberated,  the  resulting  energy  would  wreck  the 
world,  destroying  every  mountain,  every  sea,  every 
nation,  every  city,  every  human,  every  animal,  every 
small  and  large  thing  on  the  planet." 

Thus  my  court  fool  named  Touch  tells  me  little 
or  nothing  about  atomic  or  molecular  forces.  They 
are  not  among  the  familiar  forces — these  unimagin- 
ably subtle,  these  inconceivably  powerful  forces; 
they  belong  to  a  different  order.  We  are  utterly  un- 
aware of  them — not  because  they  do  not  exist,  not 
because  they  are  not  in  ceaseless  operation,  but 
solely  because  they  are  so  perfectly  balanced, 
held  in  such  noiseless,  frictionless  equilibrium  by 
the  all-wise  God  who  conceived  and  created 
them. 

My  next  court  fool — one  of  the  jesters  who  go 


20       THE  ENCHANTED  UNIVERSE 

along  to  make  merriment  for  the  king — is  Hear- 
ing. "What  is  your  business,  Mr.  Hearing?" 
"  My  business  is  to  report  to  you  all  the  sound  there 
is  in  the  universe."  "  Now  be  careful,  Mr.  Hear- 
ing :  your  brother  Touch  has  already  convicted  him- 
self of  perjury."  "  Oh,  but  Touch  is  just  a  stupid 
fellow  compared  with  me.  Why,  look  at  my  won- 
derful instrument — just  see  this  ear  of  mine!  Those 
shells  down  on  the  shore,  which  hold  the  whispered 
murmur  of  the  sea,  have  all  been  patterned  after  my 
external  and  internal  ear.  Would  you  like  me  to 
tell  you  how  sound  reaches  my  brain  through  this 
ear?  Very  well.  After  entering  my  outer  ear, 
sound  waves  pass  inwards,  reaching  the  membrane 
stretched  over  my  inner  ear.  That  is  what  I  call  the 
drum,  because  sound  smites  it  and  it  trembles.  The 
message  is  taken  from  this  drum  by  those  marvellous 
little  bones  called,  because  of  their  grotesque  shapes, 
the  hammer,  the  anvil,  and  the  stirrup.  Then  the 
stirrup,  agitated  by  this  news  from  the  outer  court 
of  things,  knocks  at  a  little  window  and  is  hospitably 
received.  But  the  sound  is  in  a  hurry  to  reach  my 
brain,  and  so  it  is  taken  from  this  mysterious  win- 
dow by  a  tiny  pool  of  water,  just  beyond  it.  And 
then  comes  that  most  bewildering  of  all  the  factors 
of  the  ear — that  little  musical  instrument  with  its 
scores  of  delicate  strings  made  of  nerves  so  fine  and 
tenuous  that  it  requires  a  microscope  lo  see  them. 
Waves  from  that  microscopic  pool  of  water  are  the 
elflike  fingers  that  play  the  many-stringed  instru- 


THE  ENCHANTED  UNIVERSE        21 

ment.  At  this  point  the  nerves,  quivering  v^ith  news 
from  time  and  eternity,  take  up  the  message  and 
flash  it  on  to  the  brain."  "  A  wonderful  instru- 
ment, surely,  Mr.  Hearing.  We  must  all  concede 
that.  But  you  made  one  statement  I  must  inquire 
into  a  little  more  closely.  Did  you  not  say  that  you 
hear  everything  there  is  to  be  heard  ?  "  **  I  certainly 
did !  "  ''  Well,  now,  is  it  not  a  fact,  Mr.  Hearing, 
that  up  to  the  sixteenth  vibration  of  sound-waves 
per  second  you  do  not  hear  anything  at  all?  "  Mr. 
Hearing's  frown  betrays  an  ugly  mood.  "  That's 
what  these  fool  scientists  say,"  he  roars.  "  Never 
mind  about  the  scientists,  whether  they  be  wise  or 
foolish,"  commands  the  Court.  "  Answer  the 
gentleman's  question."  So  examination  of  the 
witness  proceeds :  "  You  know,  Mr.  Hearing,  that 
256  vibrations  per  second  produce  what  musicians 
call  the  Middle  C  note  on  the  piano ;  you  know,  also, 
that  up  to  the  nine  thousandth  vibration  per  second 
— or  the  twenty-four  thousandth  at  the  most — the 
ear  still  registers  sound;  now  what  I  want  to  ask 
you,  Mr.  Hearing,  is  this:  Do  you,  or  any  other 
mortal,  know  anything  of  the  sound  that  goes  on 
beyond  the  twenty-four  thousandth  sound-wave  per 
second?  "  "  For  myself,  I  do  not;  and  as  for  any 
other  mortal,  I  dare  not  answer."  "  You  have  at 
last  begun  to  tell  the  truth.  Stand  aside,  Mr.  Hear- 
ing." It  is  well  to  remember,  in  this  connection, 
that  Huxley  held  if  our  ears  were  keen  enough  we 
should  be  able  to  hear  the  flowers  grow;  while 


22       THE  ENCHANTED  UNIVERSE 

George  Eliot  thought  we  should  then  die  of  the  roar 
on  the  other  side  of  the  silence. 

But  the  star  witness  for  materialism  must  now 
be  introduced.  His  name  is  Sight.  Of  all  the 
senses,  sight  is  supreme;  and  his  instrument,  the 
eye,  has  not  a  superior  beneath  this  dome  of  skull 
and  brain.  Small,  as  compared  with  some  of  the 
other  faculties,  yet  the  e3^e,  by  reason  of  the  quality, 
delicacy,  and  painstaking  thought  which  has  gone 
into  its  construction,  reigns  with  a  kind  of  undis- 
puted kingliness  over  all  of  man's  bodily  powers. 
A  man  undertook  to  lower  Wellington  in  the  estima- 
tion of  a  private  soldier  because  of  his  small  stature. 
The  soldier  replied :  "  Wellington  was  biggest  at 
the  top."  Similarly,  if  the  hand  or  foot  undertakes 
to  bully  the  eye  because  of  its  small  dimensions, 
the  eye  may  answer :  "  I  am  biggest  at  the  top.  I 
am  not  only  located  near  the  brain,  the  centre  of 
things,  but  I  am  the  scout  that  runs  everywhither, 
searching  out  both  landscape  and  skyscape,  that  I 
may  render  a  faithful  report  to  my  master,  the 
mind." 

But  just  because  Sight  has  such  a  surpassing  in- 
strument, it  may  be  conceited,  vain,  dogmatic,  and, 
therefore,  easily  deceived.  Some  of  the  most  gifted 
mortals  are  the  tools  of  a  vanity  that  would  make 
a  peacock  forget  to  strut.  But  let  the  witness  speak 
for  himself.  "  Mr.  Sight,  you  know  Hearing  and 
Touch,  do  you  not?"  "Well,  I  can't  say  that  I 
know  them  very  well;  I  have  heard  of  them,  but 


THE  ENCHANTED  UNIVERSE        23 

the  fact  is,  they  are  such  dull,  inferior  creatures 
that  I  don't  like  to  associate  with  them.  To  be 
perfectly  frank,  they  are  not  in  my  social  set." 
"  Oh,  I  see.  You  are  an  aristocrat,  then  ?  "  "  Yes ; 
that's  how  I  feel,  whether  true,  or  false."  "  What 
is  your  particular  function,  Mr.  Sight?"  "Why, 
to  see,  of  course — to  see  everything — everything — 
mark  you — there  is  to  be  seen."  "  Is  not  that  a 
rather  bold  assertion,  Mr.  Sight?"  "It  might  be 
for  a  lesser  authority,  but  not  for  me.  I  am  so 
absolutely  sure  of  myself  that  it  is  impossible  for  me 
to  be  mistaken.  You  may  recall  that  somebody 
said  of  Clerk-Maxwell  that  it  was  impossible  for 
him  to  be  mistaken  in  matters  of  physical  science. 
I  am  the  Clerk-Maxwell  of  the  five  senses."  "  But, 
Mr.  Sight,  another  great  scientist  said :  *  Show  me 
the  scientist  who  never  made  a  mistake,  and  I  will 
show  you  a  scientist  who  never  made  a  discovery.* 
Yet  that  is  only  an  aside.  What  I  want  to  ask  you, 
inasmuch  as  you  claim  to  see  everything,  is  this :  Did 
you  ever  see  any  Thought?  Did  you  ever  see  any 
Love  ?  Did  you  ever  see  any  Hope  ?  Did  you  ever  see 
any  Faith  ?    Did  you  ever  see  any  Prayer  ?  "    Well 

— I — or — if — and "      "Hold   on:   answer   my 

question — yes  or  no."  "  No."  "  Then  you  cannot 
see  everything  there  is,  can  you?  "  "  No."  "  Now, 
forgetting  these  higher  matters  for  a  moment,  and 
coming  back  to  physical  things,  is  it  not  a  fact, 
Mr.  Sight,  that  up  to  458  billion  vibrations  per 
second,  you  can't  see  anything  at  all?    And  ia  it 


24       THE  ENCHANTED  UNIVERSE 

not  also  true  that  light-waves  have  to  beat  in  upon 
your  eye  at  the  rate  of  "^2^  billion  vibrations  per 
second  before  you  see  the  ultra  violet?  Therefore, 
are  you  prepared  to  say  what  goes  on  beyond — on 
the  other  side  of — the  vibrations  which  produce 
the  ultra  violet?"  "I  am  not— today!"  **  Then 
stand  aside,  please." 

Evidently,  the  senses  are  not  competent  witnesses 
in  this  case.  Unquestionably  they  may  be  trained 
until  the  spiritualized  mind  commands  them  to  serve 
its  interests;  or  they  may  be  perverted  until  the  de- 
generacy of  the  soul  itself  spreads  over  and  through 
them,  befouling  the  very  windows  whereby  man 
sees  the  outer  world.  But,  in  either  case,  they  are 
necessarily  limited.  My  senses  cannot  inform  me 
of  countless  physical  operations  going  ceaselessly 
on,  to  say  nothing  of  those  spiritual  realities  which 
report  themselves  to  the  Christ-hidden  spirit  alone. 
Fortunately,  I  have  some  spiritual  statesmen — ex- 
pert witnesses — in  my  court  of  life.  Their  testi- 
mony, bearing  upon  man's  relation  to  the  World  of 
Spirit — I  mean  the  Personal,  Holy,  Wise,  Loving 
Spirit  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus — is  at  once  command- 
ingly  authoritative,  infinitely  satisfying,  and  richly 
redemptive  from  sense  and  sin. 

One  of  my  statesmen  is  Prayer.  He  assures  me 
that  I  may  talk  with  that  Eternal  Somebody  who  is 
not  so  far  as  to  be  near.  When  we — a  thousand  or 
so  of  us — ^were  talking  from  the  First  Reformed 


THE  ENCHANTED  UNIVERSE       25 

Church  of  Brooklyn  to  San  Francisco  a  few  months 
ago,  some  of  us  were  amazed  at  the  instant  replies 
which  came  from  the  other  side  of  the  continent 
and  the  cities  between.  "  Hello !  "  called  Mr.  Robb. 
Instantly  the  answer  flashed  back :  "  This  is  Pitts- 
burgh, or  Chicago,  or  Omaha,  or  Denver,  or  Salt 
Lake  City,  or  San  Francisco,  Mr.  Robb."  It  is 
the  miracle  of  man's  mastery  over  matter  and  space ; 
but  every  action  of  the  human  free-will,  said  Lord 
Kelvin,  is  a  miracle  to  physical  and  chemical  and 
mathematical  science.  And  Kelvin,  remember, 
represents  the  highest  type  of  physicist,  combining 
his  great  mathematical  powers  with  the  inventive 
genius  and  practical  skill  of  the  experimentalist. 
But  his  glory  is  this:  He  was  a  man  of  prayer,  a 
humble,  a  devout  disciple  of  Christ,  who  refused  to 
be  saddled  by  the  physical  elements  and  ridden  to  a 
spiritual  boneyard.  Well,  how  long  does  it  take 
the  human  voice,  flying  on  electric  wings,  careering 
over  mountains,  rivers,  lakes,  and  prairies,  to  reach 
San  Francisco?  The  time  is  actually  so  short  that 
it  can  hardly  be  measured — the  sixteenth  of  a 
second!  That  is  wonderful;  but  my  statesman 
named  Prayer  does  something  more  wonderful  still. 
Here  it  is :  "  Before  they  call,  I  will  answer :  and 
while  they  are  yet  speaking,  I  will  hear."  After 
hearing  me  quote  that  passage  in  this  sermon,  Mr. 
Robb  said :  **  Mr.  Shannon,  I  will  have  to  tell  the 
President  of  the  New  York  Telephone  Company 
that,  notwithstanding  our  wonderful  triumphs,  we 


26       THE  ENCHANTED  UNIVERSE 

are  yet  behind  the  times.  We  can  answer  while 
they  are  yet  speaking,  but  we  cannot  hear  before 
they  call." 

Another  statesman  is  Faith.  Arnold  Ure  has 
written  an  excellent  definition  of  faith.  After 
speaking  of  the  fact  that  both  science  and  philosophy 
may  and  do  err,  he  says :  "  Religion  demands  faith ; 
and  faith  would  seem  to  be  that  inborn  necessity 
which  has  ever  compelled  the  human  race  to  aspire 
to  higher  ideals  and  to  higher  beliefs  than  can  be 
afforded,  either  by  the  proofs  of  science,  or  the 
reasoning  of  philosophy."  Faith,  then,  is  an  inborn 
necessity  of  the  soul.  When  the  babbling  idiots  of 
Touch,  Hearing,  and  Sight  deny.  Faith  triumphantly 
affirms — affirms  with  the  conviction  of  a  pioneer 
cutting  his  way  through  a  tangled  forest,  convinced 
that  light  and  the  open  country  are  on  the  other 
side.  But  Faith  is  not  only  a  pioneer,  a  herald,  a 
John  the  Baptist  of  the  Soul,  announcing  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Invisible  King, — Faith  is  essentially 
creative.  Faith  brings  to  nought  the  things  that 
seem  that  it  may  manifest  the  things  that  are. 
Faith  is  the  soul's  creative  genius.  In  wireless 
telegraphy,  we  see  man  controlling,  actually  creat- 
ing and  collecting  vibrations  of  v/hich  his  senses 
are  entirely  ignorant.  And  how  does  he  do  it? 
By  means  of  instruments  which  he  himself  has 
invented.  Who  would  dare  to  hint  that  man  has 
reached  the  limit  of  his  inventive  powers?  The 
time  may  come — probably  not   in   your   day  nor 


THE  ENCHANTED  UNIVERSE       27 

mine — when,  as  the  late  Stephen  PhilHps  sang, 
"  the  delusion  of  death  shall  pass."  Will  man  ever, 
through  electric  or  ether  eyes,  stand  upon  the  shores 
of  the  Hudson  and  see  his  friend  on  the  banks  of 
the  Thames?  Who  knows?  Surely,  the  day  is 
not  far  distant  when  a  single  man,  by  pressing  an 
electric  button,  will  destroy  navies  and  armies,  mak- 
ing war,  as  we  now  know  it,  utterly  impossible. 
Maurice  Maeterlinck  thinks  that,  within  a  century, 
man  will  be  able  to  steer  his  planet  through  space. 
It  is  a  rather  daring  conjecture.  Meantime,  until 
man  has  learned  to  kick  militaristic  kaiserism  off 
the  planet,  it  will  matter  little  which  way  he  steers 
it,  for  his  planet  will  hardly  be  worth  steering  at 
all.  Man  has  already  partially  harnessed  the  energy 
of  Niagara.  Is  it  too  much  to  prophesy  that 
some  day  man  will  harness  the  energy  thrown  off 
by  the  earth,  as  it  flies  through  space?  At  any 
rate,  man  has  an  unconquerable  faith  in  himself 
which  will  go  steadily  on  conquering  physical  ob- 
stacles. But  faith  in  himself  is  not  enough,  man 
must  have  an  increasingly  deepening,  growing,  all- 
inclusive  faith  in  that  Other,  Higher,  and  Eternal 
Self,  even  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  and 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ.  Exercising  that  faith,  neither 
life,  nor  death,  nor  angels,  nor  principalities,  nor 
powers,  nor  things  present,  nor  things  to  come,  nor 
height,  nor  depth,  nor  any  other  creation — nothing 
within  the  visible,  the  invisible,  or  the  as  yet  un- 
created— shall  be  able  to  separate  him  from  the  love 


28       THE  ENCHANTED  UNIVERSE 

of  God,  which  is  infinitely  broader  than  the  measure 
of  man's  mind. 

Here,  then,  is  the  barest  hint  of  Man's  Enchanted 
Universe.  It  is  as  old  as  the  Book  of  Genesis,  as 
new  as  the  Book  of  Life.  "  And  the  Lord  God 
formed  man  of  the  dust  of  the  ground,  and  breathed 
into  his  nostrils  the  breath  of  life;  and  man  became 
a  living  soul." 


II 

THE  UNTROUBLED  HEART 

"Let  not  your  heart  be  trouhled."—S>T.  John  xiv:  i. 

HORACE  BUSHNELL,  just  before  he  died, 
speaking  of  these  words,  exclaimed: 
"  What  soft  and  sweet  infolding  of  all 
highest  things."  Right  soft  and  sweet  they  are, 
wondrously  infolding,  and  highest  in  the  ultimate 
heights.  Once,  at  least,  the  human  dream,  the  age- 
less longing,  got  itself  expressed  in  fitting  words. 
But  words  alone  could  not  suffice;  words  may  be 
but  breath  blown  into  blossoms  of  fragrant  sound; 
they  may  be  beautiful  without  being  ministers  of 
grace.  But  here,  in  this  Upper  Room,  the  spiritual 
cathedral  of  humanity,  final  words  are  wedded  to 
final  life,  final  truth,  final  reality.  It  was  in  a 
troubled  atmosphere,  instinct  with  troubled  souls, 
overwhelmed  by  approaching  disaster  and  in  felt 
dismay,  that  the  Master  spoke  out  His  music  of 
holy  calm,  stilled  the  foam-flecked  waves  of  that 
apostolic,  and  very  human  sea.  And  we  need  to 
hear  these  words  again  for  the  same  reason  that 
these  men  heard  them  first.  For  are  we  not  in  a 
world  of  sin,  of  discord,  of  mystery,  of  trouble? 

29 


30         THE    UNTROUBLED    HEART 

Yet  we  may  have  peace  in  the  midst  of  trouble, 
light  in  the  heart  of  mystery,  calm  in  the  centre 
of  confusion.  Ours  may  be  the  way  of  the  un- 
troubled heart.  What  is  its  source?  What  is  its 
method?    And  what  is  its  goal? 


The  first  essential  of  the  untroubled  heart  is  faith 
in  a  Christlike  God.  ''  Believe  in  God,"  said  the 
Master;  and  then,  in  answer  to  Philip's  plea  to 
show  him  the  Father,  Jesus  sets  forth  the  kind  of 
God  he  is  to  believe  in.  "  He  that  hath  seen  me 
hath  seen  the  Father."  The  kind  of  Deity  we  wor- 
ship is  a  matter  of  supreme  importance.  Men  and 
nations  disclose  their  God  in  their  own  characters. 
Is  God  worshiped  as  immeasurable  force?  Then 
brute  force  becomes  dominant  in  the  worshipers. 
Is  God  considered  an  infinite  brain  ?  Then  intellect 
has  the  ascendency.  Is  God  thought  of  as  omni- 
potent will?  Then  will  is  uppermost  in  those  who 
thus  think  of  the  Almighty.  So  one  might  go 
through  the  nations  of  the  past  and  present  and 
read  their  God  by  their  character.  The  same  is  true, 
also,  of  individuals.  Now,  because  of  this  fact, 
we  cannot  be  too  careful  of  our  views  of  God. 
While  right  views  alone  cannot  save  us,  they  may 
enable  us  more  vividly  to  appreciate  the  Saviour 
who  can. 

Who,  then,  is  this  glorious  Being,  trust  in  Whom 


THE    UNTROUBLED    HEART  31 

gives  to  men  an  untroubled  heart  in  the  midst  of 
an  exceedingly  trouble-rent  world?  He  is  the 
Christlike  God — *'  the  Personal  Spirit,  perfectly 
good,  who  in  holy  love  creates,  sustains,  and  orders 
all."  This  definition,  given  by  the  late  Newton 
Clarke,  is  at  once  sublimely  simple  and  splendidly 
comprehensive.  For  it  contains,  according  to  his 
own  analysis,  four  statements  concerning  the  God 
of  Christ.  First,  the  Nature  of  God:  He  is  the 
Personal  Spirit.  This  means  that  God  thinks,  feels, 
wills.  Your  limited  consciousness  is  prophetic  of 
God's  limitless  consciousness ;  that  which  is  a  broken 
gleam  in  you  is  a  fountain  of  unemptying  splendour 
in  Him;  your  tiny  spark  of  being  is  flung  out  from 
that  God  who  is  a  vast,  golden  sun.  Furthermore, 
God  is  personal  as  contrasted  with  vagueness,  dim- 
ness, elusiveness.  '*  A  personal  spirit  is  a  self- 
conscious  and  self-directing  intelligence;  and  a 
personal  God  is  a  God  who  knows  Himself  as  Him- 
self, and  consciously  directs  His  own  action." 
Second,  the  Character  of  God;  He  is  perfectly  good. 
He  is  more  than  kind  and  gracious;  He  is  the  ut- 
most of  moral  excellence;  all  love,  wisdom,  good- 
ness, and  power  are  gathered  up  and  sheaved  in 
Him.  A  perfectly  good  God  is  the  crowning  glory 
of  Christ's  revelation.  We  do  not  get  this  con- 
ception from  the  universe.  Indeed,  many  hold  that 
the  cosmos  is  stoutly  opposed  to  the  idea  that  God 
is  good.  They  point  to  the  red-in-tooth-and-claw 
tendency  in  nature  and  say :  '*  Is  this  your  soul  of 


82         THE    UNTROUBLED    HEART 

goodness  in  things  evil  ?  "  Yet  however  much  or 
little  the  physical  universe  may  reveal  it,  there  is  no 
doubt  that  God's  perfect  goodness  is  made  manifest 
in  His  Son.  Therefore,  while  men  may  find  God 
in  nature,  it  is  absolutely  certain  that  God  does 
find  men  in  Christ.  Third,  the  relation  of  God  to 
other  existence :  He  creates,  sustains,  and  orders  all. 
All  worlds  and  all  systems;  all  angels  and  all  men 
were  created  by  Him;  all  are  sustained  by  Him; 
all  are  governed  by  Him.  "Of  Him,  and  through 
Him,  and  unto  Him,  are  all  things."  The  Christ- 
like God  is  the  beginning,  the  path,  the  goal  of  all 
that  was,  of  all  that  is,  of  all  that  shall  be.  Fourth, 
the  motive  of  God  in  His  relation  to  other  ex- 
istence :  God  is  Holy  Love.  This  is  implied  in  per- 
fect goodness;  but  God's  holy  love  is  so  uniquely 
the  revelation  of  our  Lord  that  it  demands  special 
emphasis.  Why  was  the  universe  created?  What 
is  the  motive  behind  it  all  ?  Holy  love  is  the  answer. 
For  example :  God  did  not  create  our  race  because 
eternity  went  heavy  on  His  hands  and  He  was  in 
need  of  something  to  do.  He  created  us  that  He 
might  lavish  His  love  upon  us,  thus  rendering  us 
capable  of  loving  Him  and  all  men.  Christ  is  God's 
explanation  of  the  universe.  "  God  so  loved  the 
world,  that  He  gave  His  only  begotten  Son,  that 
whosoever  believeth  on  Him,  should  not  perish,  but 
have  eternal  life."  It  is  God's  holy  lov^  in  Christ 
that  is  conducting  the  world  toward  the  goal  of  ulti- 
mate redemption. 


THE    UNTROUBLED    HEART  33 

Faith  in  such  a  God,  then,  is  the  secret,  and  the 
only  secret,  of  the  untroubled  heart.  Surely,  this 
is  the  faith  we  need;  the  faith  we  must  have,  or 
ingloriously  perish  in  all  worth ful  spiritual  en- 
deavour. Among  other  things,  this  faith  will  save 
you  from  being  victimized  by  the  new  dogmatism 
abroad  today.  We  have  already  been  warned  against 
the  new  predestination.  Obsessed  by  popular  ideas 
of  heredity,  men  easily  become  moral  shirks.  Stand- 
ing by  ancestral  graves,  they  backbonelessly  lament : 
"  Dead  sires,  it  was  all  your  fault  and  not  mine !  " 
And  this  scientific  fatalism,  as  taught  by  the  mate- 
riahstic  school  of  eugenists,eats  the  vitals  of  morality 
like  gangrene.  The  old  iron-clad  predestination,  as 
compared  with  this  mechanical  fatalism,  is  as  soft 
as  a  June  zephyr  sighing  in  the  wake  of  a  tornado. 
And  just  now  the  new  predestination  has  its  counter- 
part in  the  new  dogmatism.  The  chief  character- 
istic of  the  new  dogmatism  is  the  insistence  with 
which  it  asserts  what  the  modern  man  thinks  about 
God,  about  himself,  about  society,  about  destiny. 
Now  we  must  know  what  a  man  thinks  in  order  to 
know  what  a  man  is;  and  this  modern  man  thinks 
aloud  so  much  that  it  were  impossible  to  ignore  him. 
He  should  not  be  ignored ;  he  is  of  vast  importance. 
And  yet  there  is  something  more  important  still. 
It  is  this:  To  know  what  the  supreme  mind — the 
mind  of  the  Christlike  God — thinks  of  the  modern 
man.  Are  we  not  in  real  danger  of  overlooking  this 
phase  of  the  problem  ?    Many  seem  to  think  of  the 


34         THE    UNTROUBLED    HEART 

Creator  as  Comte  thought  of  the  laws  of  the  solar 
system.  He  said :  ''  We  can  easily  conceive  them 
improved  in  certain  respects."  But  for  some  reason, 
the  Almighty  did  not  see  fit  to  let  the  contract  for 
improving  the  solar  system  to  the  positivist.  It  is 
nothing  less  than  tragical  to  see  men  extending  their 
intellectual  frontiers  while  at  the  same  time  con- 
tracting their  spiritual  boundaries.  "  How  pro- 
foundly true  it  is,"  said  James  Martineau,  "  that 
in  divine  things  the  child  may  know  what  the  great 
philosopher  has  missed."  Speaking  of  a  godless 
civilization,  he  also  says :  "  It  is  a  fatal  delusion  to 
imagine  that  the  arts  of  life,  which  only  enlarge  its 
resources,  have  any  necessary  tendency  to  improve 
its  spirit;  or  that  the  completest  acquaintance  with 
science  affords  any  guarantee  of  highest  goodness. 
No  laboratory  can  neutralize  the  poison  of  the  pas- 
sions, or  find  a  crucible  to  make  the  nucleus  of  the 
heart  flown  down;  no  observatory  can  show  us  a 
new  constellation  of  the  virtues,  correct  the  aber- 
ration of  life's  true  light,  or  deepen  any  heavens  but 
those  of  space." 

All  reasonable  men  are  in  hearty  sympathy  with 
what  George  Meredith  called  rational  progress.  It 
is  the  blase  Comteism;  the  intellectual  conceit  un- 
aware of  the  rattle  of  its  dry  bones;  the  new  dog- 
matism more  repulsive  than  the  old,  bereft  of 
thoroughgoing  morality  and  orphaned  of  spiritual 
vitality;  the  smiling  ease  with  which  old  faiths  are 
chucklingly  thrown  off  and  new  ones  grimacingly 


THE    UNTROUBLED    HEART  35 

taken  on;  the  superficial  mental  illumination  that 
lacks  the  urge  and  ache  of  sacrificial  passion;  the 
fad  to  be  glibly  modern  rather  than  the  desire  to  be 
eternally  right — these  are  a  few  expressions  of  that 
reckless  spirit  which  chants  for  its  marching  song : 

"  Oh,  we  have  learnt  to  peer  and  pore 
On  tortured  puzzles  from  our  youth. 
We  know  all  labyrinthine  lore, 
We  are  the  three  Wise  Men  of  yore, 
And  we  know  all  things  but  the  truth." 

Consequently,  a  just  critique  of  large  sections  •f 
current  life  is  this:  Our  humanitarianism  is  not 
robustly  moral ;  our  morality  is  not  deeply  spiritual ; 
and  our  spirituality  is  not  vitally  Christian.  There- 
fore, we  need  to  be  delivered  from  the  peril — ghastly 
smooth  and  tremendously  insinuating — of  a 
"  Christless  Christianity."  Having  a  form  of  god- 
liness and  practically  denying  its  power  is  equivalent 
to  having  a  painted  fire  and  freezing  to  death.  So 
long  as  we  ministers  prophesy  soft  things  we  shall 
be  rewarded  with  a  harvest  of  soft  souls.  Our 
up-to-date  cleverness  is  a  sorry  substitute  for  the 
dateless  reality  of  sustained  repentance  and  eternal 
life  mediated  by  the  unaging  Christ.  Where  there 
is  no  trenchant,  rapier-like  thrust  in  the  pulpit,  there 
is  no  bleeding,  sin-convicted  heart  in  the  pew;  and 
both  alike  stumble  into  the  abyss  of  unchristian  in- 
efficiency. 


36         THE    UNTROUBLED    HEART 


II 

The  second  essential  of  the  untroubled  heart  is 
Christlike  sonship.  For  the  only  way  to  faith  in 
a  Christlike  God  is  faith  in  Christ.  "  Believe  in 
God,  believe  also  in  me."  Here  is  our  Lord's  unique 
sonship,  together  with  the  sonship  He  imparts. 

There  is  a  twofold  witness  to  Christ's  solitary 
relation  to  God — the  New  Testament  and  the  his- 
tory of  two  thousand  years.  In  the  greatest  of  all 
books  we  come  upon  such  expressions  as  these: 
"  All  things  have  been  delivered  unto  me  of  my 
Father:  and  no  one  knoweth  the  Son,  save  the 
Father;  neither  doth  any  know  the  Father,  save 
the  Son,  and  he  to  whomsoever  the  Son  willeth  to 
reveal  him ; "  "  Jesus  came  to  them  and  spake  unto 
them,  saying.  All  authority  hath  been  given  unto 
me  in  heaven  and  on  earth.  Go  ye  therefore,  and 
make  disciples  of  all  the  nations,  baptizing  them 
into  the  name  of  the  Father  and  of  the  Son  and 
of  the  Holy  Spirit :  teaching  them  to  observe  all 
things  whatsoever  I  commanded  you :  and  lo,  I  am 
with  you  always,  even  unto  the  end  of  the  world ; " 
"  That  ye  may  know  that  the  Son  of  man  hath 
authority  on  earth  to  forgive  sins  (he  saith  unto  the 
sick  of  the  palsy),  I  say  unto  thee.  Arise,  take  up 
thy  bed,  and  go  unto  thy  house ;  "  "  Behold,  I  send 
forth  the  promise  of  my  Father  upon  you :  but  tarry 
ye  in  the  city,  until  ye  be  clothed  with  power  from 


THE    UNTROUBLED    HEART  37 

on  high ; "  ''  He  that  believeth  on  the  Son  hath 
eternal  life;  but  he  that  obeyeth  not  the  Son  shall 
not  see  life,  but  the  wrath  of  God  abideth  on  him ;  " 
"  Jesus  saith  unto  him,  I  am  the  way,  and  the 
truth,  and  the  life :  no  one  cometh  unto  the  Father, 
but  by  me."  Reading  such  words,  with  such  a 
Being  behind  them,  one  is  not  profoundly  impressed 
with  the  statement  that  "  the  Church  of  the  future 
will  reverence  more  and  more  the  personality  of 
Jesus."  Of  course,  it  will  do  that;  but  my  point 
is :  If  Jesus  was  no  more  than  the  supreme  religious 
teacher,  and  the  introducer  of  the  highest  ethical 
principles,  then,  in  the  light  of  His  claims.  He  is 
frankly  and  emphatically  not  entitled  to  reverence 
at  all.  For  His  teaching  and  ethical  principles,  com- 
pared with  His  office  of  Saviour,  Revealer  of  God, 
Conqueror  of  the  Grave,  and  Guide  of  the  Race, 
would  stamp  Him  the  arch-imposter  of  history, 
were  He  simply  a  teacher  and  not  the  Redeemer 
of  the  world.  The  Christ  of  God  is  not  Another, 
if  you  please,  He  is  the  Only;  not  just  timely,  but 
timeless ;  not  merely  the  high-water  mark  of  ethics, 
but  the  veritable  water  of  life  to  souls  thirsty  enough 
to  drink;  not  simply  a  unique  religious  genius,  but 
the  only  Saviour  in  time  and  eternity  from  the  guilt 
and  power  of  sin. 

Unique  in  Himself,  Christ  imparts  His  sonship  to 
others.  **  He  came  unto  his  own,  and  they  that 
were  his  own  received  him  not.  But  as  many  as 
received  him,  to  them  gave  he  the  right  to  become 


38         THE    UNTROUBLED    HEART 

children  of  God,  even  to  them  that  believe  on  his 
name :  who  were  born,  not  of  blood,  nor  of  the  will 
of  the  flesh,  nor  of  the  will  of  man,  but  of  God." 
The  witness  which  the  human  consciousness  bears 
to  Christ  is  a  fact  of  the  utmost  spiritual  grandeur. 
Since  Pentecost,  there  have  been  multitudes  in 
every  age  and  clime  who  have  known  Christ  better 
than  they  knew  father,  mother,  brother,  sister,  or 
friend.  It  is  even  so  today.  Millions  upon  millions 
can  say  with  the  apostle :  "  I  know  Him ;  and  I 
count  all  things  to  be  loss  for  the  excellency  of  the 
knowledge  of  Christ  Jesus  my  Lord."  He  is  the 
living  bread  upon  which  they  feed.  He  is  the  true 
vine  of  which  they  are  unwithering  branches.  He 
is  the  well  of  water  springing  up  unto  eternal  life  in 
their  spirits.  He  is  the  Good  Shepherd  who  leads 
them  into  green  pastures  of  love  and  by  tuneful 
streams  of  quietness.  He  is  the  door,  and  those 
who  enter  in  say :  "  Nothing  seems  closed  to  me, 
because  I,  too,  have  become  the  door  of  everything." 
He  is  the  Ancient  of  Days,  the  I  am  that  I  am,  who 
forgives,  who  heals,  who  redeems,  who  crowns, 
who  satisfies.  He  brings  a  sense  of  "  stilled  sing- 
ing "  into  hearts  that  trust  Him,  while  He  wakens 
unutterable  silences  in  souls  that  love  Him.  Goethe 
spoke  of  the  beginning  of  his  friendship  with  Schil- 
ler as  a  "  new  life,"  a  "  second  youth."  "  He  saved 
me  from  the  charnel-house  of  science,"  he  says, 
"  and  gave  me  back  to  poetry  and  life."  But  if  one 
human  can  touch  another  in  such  a  grandly  vitaliz- 


THE    UNTROUBLED    HEART  39 

ing  way,  how  much  more  does  the  Christ  of  God 
release  men  and  women  from  the  charnel-house  of 
existence  into  spaciousness  of  life  and  reality !  With 
His  great,  tender  hand  of  Hope  He  wipes  away 
all  tears,  even  as  He  thrills  the  soul  with  incom- 
municable news  from  eternity,  giving  such  lofty 
perspective  that  one  is  constrained  to  say : 

"  When  I  consider  life  and  its  few  years — 
A  wisp  of  fog  betwixt  us  and  the  sun; 
A  call  to  battle,  and  the  battle  done 
Ere  the  last  echo  dies  within  our  ears; 
A  rose  choked  in  the  grass ;  an  hour  of  fears ; 
The  gusts  that  past  a  darkening  shore  do  beat; 
The  burst  of  music  down  an  unlistening  street — 
I  wonder  at  the  idleness  of  tears. 
Ye  old,  old  dead,  and  ye  of  yesternight, 
Chieftains,  and  bards,  and  keepers  of  the  sheep, 
By  every  cup  of  sorrow  that  you  had, 
Loose  me  from  tears,  and  make  me  see  aright 
How  each  hath  back  what  once  he  stayed  to  weep: 
Homer  his  sight,  David  his  little  lad." 

Ill 

Fatherhood  and  sonship  presuppose  the  third  es- 
sential of  the  untroubled  heart — the  Christlike 
home.  '*  In  my  Father's  house  are  many  mansions." 
Men  live  greatly  just  so  far  as  they  do  the  business 
of  life  upon  capital  borrowed  from  Heaven.  Other- 
wise, they  lead  a  piecemeal  existence.  Indeed,  the 
one-world-at-a-time  character  properly  has  no  world 
at  all.  For  him  the  higher  unity  of  being  drops  to 
the  level  of  dead  uniformity.     Thus  he  ultimately 


40         THE    UNTROUBLED    HEART 

finds  this  world  a  bore,  while  the  world  invisible  is 
no  more  substantial  than  a  fog-bank.  Both  worlds 
elude  the  man  who  insists  upon  having  only  one 
world,  because  both  are  required  to  give  unity,  rich- 
ness, and  meaning  to  either.  At  least  three  ideas 
are  prominent  in  the  Master's  discourse  upon  hu- 
manity's celestial  gathering-place. 

There  is,  first  of  all,  the  note  of  lofty  assurance, 
"  If  it  were  not  so,  I  would  have  told  you."  It  is 
well  enough  for  philosophers  to  give  us  their  specu- 
lations; that  is  their  high  calling.  Yet  a  raft  of 
reason — a  boat  whose  bottom  is  wrought  of  intui- 
tion, whose  prow  is  alight  with  instinct,  whose 
rudder  is  the  plaything  of  shifting  winds  of  tem- 
perament, whose  pilot  is  not  sure  of  the  unknown 
deeps  ahead — such  a  craft  is  not  altogether  in- 
viting when  the  importance  of  the  journey  is  duly 
considered.  On  the  contrary,  men  go  aboard  the 
White  Ship  of  Revelation  with  buoyant  stride  and 
steadfast  confidence.  Athens  and  Jerusalem  beheld 
the  universe  out  of  strikingly  different  eyes.  "  To 
affirm  positively,"  said  Socrates,  "  that  these  things 
are  exactly  as  I  have  described  them,  does  not  become 
a  man  of  discernment."  No;  not  a  man  of  discern- 
ment only;  not  a  mere  philosopher,  however  noble. 
But  in  old  Jerusalem,  in  a  little  upper  room,  was 
One  wiser  than  all  academies,  gentler  than  all 
mothering  breasts,  kindlier  than  the  velvet  touch  of 
all  skilled  hands,  stronger  than  the  combined 
strength  of  sin,  death,  and  the  grave.     He  spoke 


THE    UNTROUBLED    HEART  41 

positively  of  Yonderland,  and  was  it  not  divinely 
becoming  in  Him  who  was  before  all  things,  and 
in  Whom  all  things  hold  together  ?  A  weary  old 
mother,  at  the  end  of  a  hard  day's  toil,  said  to  her 
son :  "  Well,  I  am  one  day  nearer  my  grave."  "  No, 
mother,"  the  son  quickly  answered,  "  you  are  just 
one  day  nearer  home :  we  are  Christians/^  Oh,  let 
us  not  forget  that,  my  friends.  If  we  are  indeed 
Christians,  ours  is  the  privilege  of  a  brave,  unearthly 
assurance ;  for  the  universe  is  not  talking  in  its  sleep 
as  we  listen  to  the  speech  of  the  untroubled  heart. 
When  a  soul  is  indwelt  by  Christ,  man  is  no  more 
afraid  of  death  than  a  child  is  afraid  of  its  mother's 
kiss. 

The  second  idea  is  spaciousness.  "  In  my 
Father's  house  are  many  mansions.''  Heaven  is  the 
Land  of  Room  Enough.  There  is  room  for  all  the 
dumb  generations  of  the  tongueless  past;  for  all 
who  have  nobly  striven  and  heroically  failed;  for 
all  who  have  daringly  dreamed  and  had  not  time 
here  to  witness  their  dreams'  fulfillment;  for  all 
who  entered  the  world  with  a  hopeless  handicap  and 
left  it  with  strong  crying  and  tears.  One  thing — 
and  one  thing  only — can  shut  out  a  soul  from  the 
spiritual  capaciousness  of  the  everlasting  abiding- 
places.  It  is  an  impure  heart,  an  unholy  will — love 
of  what  God  hates,  and  hate  of  what  God  loves. 
"  Nothing  in  the  world,"  said  Kant,  "  or  even  out- 
side of  the  world,  can  possibly  be  regarded  as  good 
without  limitation  except  a  good  will."     Here  men 


42         THE    UNTROUBLED    HEART 

are  jostled  and  crowded — crowded  for  time; 
crowded  for  health;  crowded  for  wisdom;  crowded 
in  multitudinous  ways.  And  this  is  true  of 
the  good  who  desire  to  become  better;  true 
of  the  better  who  yearn  to  attain  the  best. 
But  the  time  is  short;  our  noisy  days  speed 
on  wings  of  laughter  and  sighing;  we  spend 
our  years  as  a  tale  that  is  told.  Always  it  is 
the  amplest  nature  that  most  poignantly  feels  the 
brevity  of  life.  A  Moses,  with  his  promised  land 
still  untrodden;  a  Paul,  with  his  world-programme 
still  unrealized;  a  John,  with  his  city  of  pearl  and 
jasper  still  far  away  in  the  ethereal  distance;  a 
Dante,  with  his  haunting  vision  still  uncaught  in 
poetic  colours;  a  Shakespeare,  with  his  immortal 
music  still  slumbering  in  the  unplumbed  deeps  of 
his  mighty  soul;  a  Phillips  Brooks,  in  the  height 
of  his  powers,  who  still  feels  that  he  might  come  to 
something,  if  only  he  had  five  hundred  years  in 
which  to  pray  and  think  and  work.  It  is  the 
thousand-souled  man,  far  more  than  the  one  talent 
grave-digger,  to  whom  the  spaciousness  of  the 
Father's  many-roomed  Home  appeals  like  melodious 
trumpet-blasts  quivering  with  violent  thrills  of  life. 
"  Here,"  said  Origen,  '*  we  see  with  eyes,  act  with 
hands,  walk  with  feet.  But  in  that  spiritual  body 
we  shall  be  all  sight,  all  hearing,  all  activity." 

The  Master's  final  idea  is  the  immortal  society. 
"  And  if  I  go  and  prepare  a  place  for  you,  I  come 
again,   and  will  receive  you  unto  myself.     That 


THE    UNTROUBLED    HEART  43 

where  I  am,  there  ye  may  be  also."  If,  as  Beecher 
once  said,  "  the  bosom  of  God  is  the  food  of  the 
universe,"  then  the  purpose  of  the  universe  is  to 
grow  a  true  and  lofty  society  of  chaste  souls.  Men 
are  the  end  of  nature,  but  men  are  not  the  end  of 
themselves.  Leaving  nature  behind,  men  go  end- 
lessly on  and  ceaselessly  up — on  and  up  the  shining 
hills  of  light.  First  that  which  is  natural,  and 
afterward  that  which  is  spiritual — the  dawn  of  the 
eternal,  the  call  of  the  celestial,  the  ache  and  thrill  of 
the  personal,  the  peace  and  poise  of  the  Christo- 
centric.  "  I  know  mine  own,  and  mine  own  know 
me,"  says  the  all-knowing  Christ.  What  is  it  but 
the  downbending  of  divinity  and  the  upreaching  of 
humanity,  until  the  twain  become  one  new  and 
redeemed  society  in  that  Holy  City  paved  with 
myriad  rolling  stars  and  washed  by  silver-singing 
seas  ?  Then  why  should  we  not  lean  listeningly  up- 
ward as  we  go  thither  ?  It  is  the  starward  look  that 
gives  majesty  to  the  earthward  step.  Have  we  not 
left  behind  the  burning  mount,  with  its  blackness, 
and  darkness,  and  tempest?  And  are  we  not  now 
pilgrims  of  grace,  facing  toward  Mount  Zion,  the 
city  of  the  living  God,  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  and 
myriads  of  angels,  and  the  general  assembly  and 
church  of  the  firstborn  who  are  enrolled  in  heaven, 
and  God  the  Judge  of  all,  and  the  spirits  of  just 
men  made  perfect,  and  Jesus  the  mediator  of  a  new 
covenant?  All  that  ever  lived  are  living  still!  It 
is    a    sublime,    solemn,    heart-shattering    thought! 


44         THE    UNTROUBLED    HEART 

Consider  it — ah!  consider  it  well  in  your  waking 
thoughts  and  tasks,  and  sometimes  its  voiceless 
wonder  will  lovingly  invade  your  dreams !  "  All 
that  lives  must  die,  passing  through  nature  to 
eternity,"  said  Shakespeare;  yet  it  is  equally  true 
that  all  that  die  must  live,  passing  out  of  the  flesh 
into  the  world  of  spirits.  What  heavens  and  what 
hells  there  are  in  that  immeasurable  Milky  Way  of 
Deathless  Souls!  Once,  at  the  end  of  a  Sabbath 
whose  hours  were  heavy  with  rain  and  storm,  Doc- 
tor Hillis  and  I  were  talking  of  the  "  wonderful 
dead  who  have  escaped  from  their  bodies  and  gone." 
Raphael  was  one;  Rembrandt  was  another;  then 
Brooks,  then  Beecher,  and,  last  of  all,  Robertson  of 
Brighton.  We  were  still  talking,  even  as  I  passed 
out  of  his  door  into  the  night.  Suddenly  he  paused, 
looked  out  and  up,  and  asked :  "  What  are  they  all 
doing  tonight  ?  What  are  they  thinking  about  ?  Do 
Sundays  mean  anything  to  them  ?  "  It  was  a  mo- 
ment not  to  be  forgotten — one  in  which  silence  is 
golden  speech.  Yet  there  is  a  deep,  divine  answer 
to  my  friend's  great  questions.  It  is  this :  "  And 
there  shall  be  no  curse  any  more :  and  the  throne 
of  God  and  of  the  Lamb  shall  be  therein:  and  his 
servants  shall  serve  Him;  and  they  shall  see  his 
face;  and  his  name  shall  be  on  their  foreheads. 
And  there  shall  be  night  no  more ;  and  they  need  no 
light  of  lamp,  neither  light  of  sun;  idr  the  Lord 
God  shall  give  them  light :  and  they  shall  reign  for 
ever  and  ever." 


THE    UNTROUBLED    HEART         45 

This,  then,  is  the  way  of  The  Untroubled  Heart — 
faith  in  the  Christlike  God,  faith  in  the  Christlike 
Sonship,  faith  in  the  Christlike  Society.  And  this 
is  the  rhyme  of  the  Christian  Mariner: 

"  I  have  a  faith  that  life  and  death  are  one. 

That  each  depends  upon  the  self-same  thread, 
And  that  the  seen  and  unseen  rivers  run 

To  one  calm  sea,  from  one  clear  fountain-head. 
I  have  a  faith  that  man's  most  potent  mind 

May  cross  the  willow-shaded  stream,  nor  sink; 
I  have  a  faith,  when  he  has  left  behind 

The  earthly  vesture  on  the  river's  brink, 
When  all  his  little  fears  are  torn  away. 

His  soul  may  beat  a  pathway  through  the  tide, 
And,  disencumbered  of  its  inward  clay. 

Emerge,  immortal,  on  the  summer  side." 


Ill 

THE  LIGHT  OF  THE  WORLD 

"Again,  therefore,  Jesus  spake  unto   the^n,  saying,  I  am 
the  light  of  the  world." — St.  John  viii:i2, 

YET  many  are  saying :  ^  *'  The  Light  of  the 
World  is  the  light  that  failed."  Thinking 
of  the  bloody  rain  in  Europe  and  Asia,  they 
exclaim :  "  The  Sun  has  suffered  total  eclipse :  it 
is  not  light,  but  the  mailed  fist,  that  triumphs;  it 
is  not  the  Lamb,  but  the  Lion,  that  conquers;  it  is 
not  Christ,  but  Caesar,  that  is  on  the  throne."  But 
such  expressions  are  the  mere  noise  of  brains  in  the 
throes  of  thought-friction.  Chiefest  of  the  lessons 
we  may  learn  in  this  school  of  international  agony 
is  this:  CiviHzation  is  not  a  synonym  for  Chris- 
tianity. Some  have  confidently  assumed  their  iden- 
tity, but  the  brute  is  now  busily  gnawing  and  claw- 
ing that  assumption  to  pieces.  No,  my  friend, 
Christianity  has  not  failed ;  it  is  your  efficient,  clever, 
cruel,  Christless  civilization  that  has  failed,  is  fail- 
ing, and  must  fail,  hour  by  hour.  Tomorrow  it 
will  utterly  fade,  and  over  its  heap  of  charred  ruins, 
bleaching  bones,  unmarked  graves,  broken  bodies, 
and  accusing  hands  of  mothers  and  little  children, 
the  Light  of  the  World  will  arise  afresh  with  heal- 

46 


THE  LIGHT  OF  THE  WORLD         47 

ing  in  His  wings.  When  our  Christless  culture, 
which  is  a  very  thin  veneer  for  the  blackest  barbar- 
ism, has  been  stripped  off;  when  our  fragile  might 
and  fictitious  power  have  been  triumphantly  slain 
by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord;  when  our  ambition  to 
reign  has  been  supplanted  by  our  passion  to  serve; 
when  kings  and  emperors  have  had  this  final  bloody 
breathing  spell  before  laying  their  crowns  and 
swords  and  guns  at  the  feet  of  Christ,  then  shall  we 
discover  newer,  deeper,  richer  meanings  in  the  life 
and  ministry  of  Him  who  borrowed  the  centre  of 
the  solar  system  to  interpret  His  nature  and  char- 
acter :  "  I  am  the  light  of  the  world." 


One  of  the  primary  facts  concerning  the  sun  is 
its  creative  power.  Go  where  you  will,  the  fertiliz- 
ing wonder  of  light  confronts  you.  Look  at  the 
sky  above  you,  at  the  earth  beneath  you,  or  search 
the  deeps  under  the  earth,  and  you  are  ever  in  the 
presence  of  light's  begetting  power.  The  coal  miner 
brings  his  black  diamonds  from  the  bowels  of  our 
planet.  Yet  is  he  not  simply  uncovering  huge  layers 
of  stored-up  sunshine?  The  immense  coal  fields  of 
China,  of  America,  of  the  world,  are  nothing  more 
nor  less  than  condensed  sunlight.  Untold  ages  ago 
God  filled  our  world-cellar  with  coal,  and  every 
lump  taken  out  of  it  is  a  clot  of  the  sun's  blood 
turned  black.     In  spring  earth's  face  is  wreathed 


48         THE  LIGHT  OF  THE  WORLD 

with  a  measureless  smile  of  greenery.  One  spring 
is  a  miracle  too  great  to  be  told ;  but  when  you  think 
of  all  the  springs  that  have  been,  with  their  illimit- 
able patches  of  colour,  their  throb  of  pregnant 
power,  their  whir  of  wings,  and  their  wafture  of 
fragrance,  how  can  you  recount  the  sun's  genera- 
tive capacity?  Why,  every  little  brown  seed  that 
has  wakened  to  life  in  the  long,  long  history  of  the 
world;  every  sprig  of  grass  that  has  climbed  out 
of  its  tiny  grave  and  become  an  emerald  string  for 
the  south  wind  to  finger  a  resurrection  melody  on; 
every  tree  that  has  thrown  out  its  branches  as  so 
many  begging  hands  to  be  filled  with  treasure  from 
the  atmosphere;  all  the  animal  life  that  has  come 
and  gone,  all  the  animal  life  that  is,  and  is  to  be — 
all  represent  the  bloody  sweat  and  aching  agony 
of  the  sun.  Scholars  say  that  if  the  sun  were  sud- 
denly blotted  out,  there  would  not  be  a  sign  of 
vegetable  and  animal  life  on  this  globe  at  the  end 
of  seventy-two  hours.  This  floating  ocean  in  the 
air  above  us  would  come  down  in  blinding  snow- 
drifts; rivers,  lakes,  and  seas  would  turn  to  solid 
ice;  the  temperature  of  the  whole  atmosphere  would 
drop  260  degrees  below  the  freezing-point.  Life 
would  be  utterly  impossible.  Indeed,  Tyndall  was 
so  profoundly  impressed  by  the  creativeness  of  light 
that  he  said  all  our  philosophy,  all  our  art,  all  our 
poetry,  all  our  science,  Plato,  Shakespeare, 
Raphael,  and  Newton — all  are  potential  in  the  forces 
of  the  sun.     This,  of  course,  is  materialism  gone 


THE  LIGHT  OF  THE  WORLD         49 

to  seed,  if  it  ever  needs  to  go.  The  sun,  under 
God's  directive  mind,  helps  to  build  the  body  in 
which  a  Raphael  or  a  Newton  lives  for  a  few  years ; 
but  the  undying  Newton,  the  immortal  Raphael, 
neither  of  these  imperial  spirits,  nor  the  lowliest 
human  that  ever  dwelt  in  a  house  of  clay,  pays 
homage  to  sun  or  star.  They  get  their  being  from 
behind  the  veils  of  force  and  sense.  God  breathed 
His  very  Self  into  them  and  sent  them  out  from 
the  golden  homelands  of  the  soul  to  pioneer  among 
the  wilds  of  sense  and  time.  For  a  few  years  they 
wrought  in  the  fields  of  the  human,  then  shook 
themselves  free  of  their  enveloping  dust,  and  re- 
turned to  that  God  who  ever  lives  and  loves,  cover- 
ing Himself  with  light  as  with  a  garment. 

Now,  as  the  sun  creates  all  physical  life,  our  Lord 
creates  all  spiritual  life.  "  I  am  the  bread  of  life  " 
— He  is  the  soul's  nourishment ;  "  I  am  the  water 
of  life  " — He  is  the  soul's  perpetual  cleanser ;  **  I 
am  the  light  of  life  " — He  is  the  soul's  illuminator; 
"  I  am  the  light  of  the  world  " — He  is  humanity's 
germinating  power.  Thus  does  Christ's  spiritually 
creative  sway  suggest  the  far-off  birth  of  things. 
"  In  the  beginning — God."  God  was  old,  the 
Ancient  of  Days,  when  the  heavens  and  earth  felt 
the  first  stir  of  life  in  the  maiden  womb  of  the 
universe.  Light  is  God's  eldest  daughter  in  the 
family  of  physical  forces.  Old  night  and  chaos 
were  touched  to  splendour  and  harmony  by  the 
brooding  spirit  of  Deity.    "  And  God  said,  Let  there 


50         THE  LIGHT  OF  THE  WORLD 

be  light :  and  there  was  light ;  "  here  we  are  at  the 
dim  beginning  of  things;  God  has  begun  to  unfold 
the  universe.  *'  I  am  the  light  of  the  world; "  here 
we  are  far  advanced  in  the  course  of  things;  God 
has  humanized  Himself,  limited  the  Illimitable  to 
the  dimensions  of  the  human,  and  is  going  about 
this  part  of  His  creation  in  the  form  of  a  Man. 
How  could  the  solar  system  be  without  the  sun? 
Is  it  possible  to  have  a  circumference  without  a 
centre  ?  Well,  a  sunless  solar  system  is  the  counter- 
part of  a  Christless  world.  Before  all  things,  the 
Beginning  of  all  things,  all  things  hold  together 
in  the  Christ  of  God.  The  world-creating  Word  be- 
came flesh  that  He  might  create  a  new  humanity. 
"  If  any  man  is  in  Christ,  there  is  a  new  creation: 
the  old  things  are  passed  away;  behold,  they  are 
become  new."  For  Christ  strikes  a  celestial  new- 
ness through  our  terrestrial  oldness.  The  low-flying 
things  give  place  to  the  high-up  realities.  He 
bridges  the  gulf  of  spiritual  distance  that  separates 
us  from  God.  The  forgiver  of  sin,  He  is  also  the 
giver  of  the  life  that  is  life  indeed.  Is  it  too  much 
to  say  that,  apart  from  Christ,  even  the  God  of  all 
hope  has  no  hope  for  the  world?  Evidently,  God 
has  no  other  way  of  saving  the  world  but  in  and 
through  Christ.  He  is  the  fount  whence  flow  the 
sweetening  streams  of  the  higher  humanities;  He 
is  the  Spiritual  Sun,  out  of  which  come  all  our  im- 
mortal radiances.  Before  Newton,  men  thought 
that  colour  was  produced  by  refraction.     But,  by  a 


THE  LIGHT  OF  THE   WORLD         51 

memorable  series  of  experiments,  Newton  showed 
that  refraction  simply  separates  the  colours  already 
existing  in  the  white  light.  Thus  all  of  our  rich 
human  colors  lie  back,  fold  upon  fold  and  hue  upon 
hue,  in  the  white  light  of  the  Saviour  of  the  World. 
In  Him  we  touch  the  unfathomed  mysteriousness 
of  our  own  being;  in  Him  we  glimpse  the  unplumbed 
deeps  in  the  Being  of  God;  and  so,  in  Him,  our 
wandering  spiritual  tones  are  gathered  up  and 
wrought  into  unjarring  harmonies.  He  alone  un- 
veils the  essential  worth  of  the  human,  giving  it 
unfluctuating  value  in  the  mystic  markets  of 
Eternity.  We  are  told  that  the  force  of  gravity  is 
twenty-seven  times  greater  on  the  surface  of  the  sun 
than  it  is  on  the  earth.  H  a  man  could  be  trans- 
ferred to  the  sun,  he  would  weigh  two  tons.  Is  it 
not  richly  suggestive  of  the  increased  value  and 
weight  of  a  human  being,  standing  in  the  revealing 
glory  of  the  Light  of  the  World?  The  creative 
Christ  explains  the  divine  estimate  of  human  beings. 


II 

The  creativeness  of  light  is  superior  only  to  its 
marvellous  power  in  putting  on  various  forms  and 
colours.  Here  is  this  blood-red  rose.  Hold  it  close 
to  your  soul-ear,  and  its  crimson  lips  whisper :  "  My 
rich  red  comes  from  the  fiery  red  of  the  sun."  But 
here  is  another  rose.  Its  petals  are  hued  with  a 
tender   goldenness.      Hear   also    its   confession   of 


52         THE  LIGHT  OF  THE   WORLD 

faith :  *'  I,  too,  believe  in  the  very  same  sun  that 
gives  beauty  to  my  heart-red  sister."  Now  look  up  : 
there  goes  a  tuneful  lover  on  wings.  His  brooklike 
madrigal  flows  refreshingly  down  out  of  the  air. 
Yet  his  song  is  hardly  more  sweetly  miraculous 
than  is  his  wondrous  back  of  grey,  his  delicately 
white  tail  feathers,  and  his  white  and  blackish  wings. 
But,  by  way  of  contrast,  a  tuft  of  flashing  yellow 
streaked  with  jet  black  is  doing  bird-wonders  in  a 
nearby  tree.  Yet  the  large  white-and-black-trimmed 
warbler,  as  well  as  that  small  saffron-and-dark-vel- 
vet-gowned  creature,  are  alike  the  artistic  exhibi- 
tions of  the  sun.  Deep  in  the  jungles  the  tiger  burns 
with  a  fierce  brightness.  How  did  bars  of  such  ex- 
quisite softness  come  to  lie  down  upon  that  fero- 
cious body?  Through  the  versatility  of  the  very 
sun  that  lends  to  the  mane  of  the  lion,  the  tiger's 
master,  its  tawny  gold.  Look  at  these  three  grapes : 
one  is  purple,  one  is  blue-black,  one  is  emerald.  Is 
not  each  just  a  variegated  globe  of  sun-juice?  For 
light  revels  in  clothing  itself  in  million-tinted  hues. 
Light  is  the  secret  of  all  that  is  fair  and  beautiful 
in  earth  and  sea  and  sky.  The  thousand-featured 
creation  says :  "  I  am  what  I  am  because  light  is 
what  it  is." 

But  light's  versatility  in  the  physical  is  just  a  large 
hint  at  our  Lord's  versatility  in  the  spiritual.  What 
true  man  ever  lived  that  did  not  ow^n  Him  Master 
and  King?  There  is  no  such  thing  as  human  true- 
ness  apart  from  Christ's  indwelling  the  human  and 


THE  LIGHT  OF  THE   WORLD         53 

expanding  it  into  its  possible  human  largeness  and 
nobility.  Life  devoid  of  Christliness  is  a  sun-ray 
sheared  off  from  the  sun.  What  kind  of  human 
temperament  is  there  that  cannot  be  mastered  into 
spiritual  kingliness  by  Christ?  Verily,  He  is  the 
Saviour  of  the  men-who-can't  that  they  may  become 
the  men-who-can.  The  King-Man  of  the  Universe 
imparts  royalty  to  His  subjects  by  virtue  of  His 
splendidly  creative  power  and  versatility. 

Consider  this  for  a  little.  It  is  quite  generally  ad- 
mitted that  Shakespeare  is  the  most  opulent  and 
many-sided  genius  in  histor}^  Think  of  the  poet's 
power  to  project  himself  into  so  many  different 
characters.  Now  he  is  a  king,  now  a  queen,  now  a 
clown,  now  an  Antony,  now  a  Cleopatra,  now  a 
Caesar,  now  a  Hamlet,  now  an  Ophelia,  now  an 
lago,  now  a  Romeo,  now  a  Juliet.  Is  not  Shake- 
speare's overwhelming  genius  seen  in  his  ability  to 
assume  any  character?  Seemingly,  he  delights  in 
hiding  himself  behind  the  overflowing  richness  of 
his  powers.  We  know  so  little  of  Shakespeare,  the 
man  himself  is  veiled  in  a  kind  of  perplexing  twi- 
light, just  because  he  conceals  himself  in  so  many 
varied  human  roles.  Thinking  of  his  fund  of  senti- 
ments, maxims,  and  observations;  of  his  influence 
on  science,  art,  history,  politics,  physics,  and  philoso- 
phy, the  critic  can  only  say :  "  Shakespeare  is  like 
a  great  primeval  forest,  whence  timber  shall  be  cut 
and  used  as  long  as  winds  blow  and  leaves  are 


54»         THE  LIGHT  OF  THE  WORLD 

But  if  Shakespeare,  by  his  affluent  genius,  re- 
creates in  imagination  and  moves  his  characters  to 
and  fro  in  the  fields  of  memory,  Christ  exercises 
first-hand,  creative  lordship  over  all  kinds  and  con- 
ditions of  souls,  and  causes  them  to  manifest  His 
spirit  in  successive  ages  and  in  countless  spheres  of 
life.  Here,  for  example,  is  John,  brother  of  James, 
son  of  Zebedee.  Like  his  father  and  brother,  he  is 
a  fisherman;  he  is  one  of  millions  of  Jews  living 
in  the  first  century  of  our  era;  he  is  an  ambitious, 
hot-tempered,  average  human  being;  goodness  and 
badness  retire  with  him  every  night  and  get  up 
with  him  every  morning.  "  But,"  you  say,  "  we 
call  him  Saint  John ;  his  writings  are  more  familiar, 
if  far  less  voluminous  than  Shakespeare's;  what, 
then,  is  the  explanation  of  this  wonderful  man?" 
There  is  but  one  answer :  Saint  John  is  a  disciple  of 
Christ,  a  shining  human  beam  raying  out  from  the 
Light  of  the  World.  A  very  different  man,  by  the 
whole  diameter  of  being  almost,  is  that  haughty, 
powerful  young  Pharisee  named  Saul  of  Tarsus. 
His  righteousness  is  as  perpendicular  as  Cleopatra's 
Needle  over  in  Central  Park,  and  almost  as  hard. 
Yet  this  disciple-slaying  Saul  not  only  changes  his 
name,  he  himself  is  changed.  The  substance  of  his 
character  is  transformed;  the  inmost  fibre  of  his 
being  is  recreated;  the  centre  of  his  personality  is 
shifted.  What  caused  it?  Who  wrought  it?  li 
the  pillared  firmament  be  not  rottenness,  nor  earth's 
base  built  on  stubble,   Jesus   Christ   as  certainly 


THE  LIGHT  OF  THE   WORLD         55 

changed  Paul  the  persecutor  into  Paul  the  saint  as 
two  and  two  make  four,  as  the  air  you  breathe 
strikes  health  through  your  cheeks.  The  universe 
is  no  stronger  argument  for  the  being  of  God  than 
are  John  and  Paul  for  the  redemptive  versatility 
of  Christ.  Nature  grows  only  one  kind  of  leaf  to  a 
tree,  though  the  tree  may  flaunt  hundreds  of  its 
kind;  but  the  Tree  of  Life  is  green  and  golden  with 
every  variety  of  age,  temperament,  strength,  weak- 
ness, faith,  hope,  love.  All  hang  there,  mellow  and 
beautiful,  as  they  take  on  an  ever-deepening  ripe- 
ness. William  Blake's  childhood  imagination  was 
so  vivid  that,  playing  among  the  trees  of  the  field, 
he  thought  he  saw  angels  in  every  one.  And  do 
not  eyes  washed  in  the  silver  waters  of  Christian 
faith  see  something  quite  as  wonderful?  Walking 
in  the  fields  of  history,  we  behold  the  overarching, 
outspreading  branches  of  the  Tree  of  Life.  Dis- 
tinctly visible  among  those  branches  are  Augustine, 
Francis,  Ignatius,  Bernard,  Luther,  Calvin,  Wesley, 
Edwards,  Robertson,  Beecher,  Brooks,  Martineau, 
Fairbairn,  Gladstone,  and  a  great  multitude  no  man 
can  number  out  of  all  tribes  and  kingdoms  and 
peoples.  There  they  cluster,  in  immortal  green- 
ness, growing  larger,  more  Christlike,  more  awe- 
struck, more  thrillingly  alive,  r<3  our  poor,  distraught 
human  regiments  march  bleedingly  on  to  the  corona- 
tion of  the  Christ  in  the  completion  of  the  worlds. 
Why,  when  we  think  of  our  Lord's  versatility,  little 
wonder  that  the  Swan  of  Avon  should  forget  to 


56        THE  LIGHT  OF  THE  WORLD 

sing  of  unhappy  kings  and  weeping  queens  long 
enough  to  write  in  his  will,  **  the  last  notes  Shake- 
speare struck  within  the  hearing  of  this  world  " : — 
"  I  commend  my  soul  into  the  hands  of  God,  my 
Creator,  hoping  and  assuredly  believing,  through  the 
only  merits  of  Jesus  Christ,  my  Saviour,  to  be  made 
partaker  of  life  everlasting."  When  Shakespeare 
gives  his  soul  back  to  God,  stained  through  and 
through  by  the  Saviourhood  of  Jesus  Christ,  is  it 
not  time  for  all  souls  to  surrender  to  the  out- 
stretched arms  of  Heaven's  pitying  mercy  and 
whitening  grace,  as  they  voice  Augustine's  soul- 
deep  lament :  "  Too  late  I  loved  Thee,  O  Thou 
Beauty  of  Ancient  Days,  yet  ever  new!  too  late 
I  loved  Thee.  Thou  wert  with  me,  but  I  was  not 
with  Thee  ?  "    For  it  is  incontestably  true  that — 

"The  man  who  hearkens  all  day  long 
To  the  sea's  cosmic-thoughted  song 
Comes  with  purged  ears  to  lesser  speech, 
And  something  of  the  skyey  reach 
Greatens  the  gaze  that  feeds  on  space; 
The  starlight  writes  upon  his  face 
That  bathes  in  starlight,  and  the  morn 
Chrisms  with  dew,  when  day  is  born, 
The  eyes  that  drink  the  holy  light 
Welhng  from  the  deep  springs  of  night." 

Ill 

When  our  Saviour  said,  "  I  am  the  light  of  the 
world,"  He  intimated  the  inexhaustibleness  of  His 
nature   and   resources.     Considering  the   amazing 


THE  LIGHT  OF  THE   WORLD         57 

abundance  of  light,  thinkers  ask :  Where  does  the 
sun  get  its  vast  supplies  of  fuel?  What  stokes  the 
fires  of  the  sun?  The  answer  now  accepted  is  that 
given  by  Helmholtz.  He  says  that  the  sun's  bulk  is 
gradually  contracting,  the  energy  thus  caused  being 
turned  into  heat.  It  is  estimated  that  an  annual 
contraction  of  150  feet  of  the  sun's  radius  would 
produce  its  enormous  volume  of  heat  and  light. 
But  such  contraction  would  not  be  noticeable  by  the 
greatest  telescopes  for  10,000  years;  and  then  this 
contraction  would  have  to  continue  for  ten  mil- 
lion years  more  before  the  sun  would  be  too  dead  to 
sustain  life  throughout  its  solar  empire.  Professor 
Simon  Newcomb  estimated  that  the  heat  thrown  of[ 
by  the  sun  every  hour  is  equal  to  the  burning  of  a 
quantity  of  coal  that  would  cover  the  sun's  entire 
surface  to  a  depth  of  twenty  feet. 

Now,  this  boundlessness  of  sun-energy  is  a  noble 
symbol,  surely,  of  Chri&t's  inexhaustibleness.  The 
physical  sun  may  ultimately  fail,  indeed  it  is  doomed 
to  extinction;  but  the  Light  of  the  World  simply 
cannot  fail;  neither  cosmic  winds  nor  infernal 
cyclones  can  quench  His  light,  because  His  is  the 
vitality  of  Godhead,  the  genius  of  Eternity.  Can 
the  unbeginning  God  have  an  ending?  Having 
power  to  lay  down  His  life.  He  had  power  to  take 
it  again.  Forever  abroad  in  the  worlds  and  the  cen- 
turies. He  goes  conqueringly  on  from  epoch  to 
epoch.  The  planets  may  get  untuned,  but  He  re- 
mains King  of  Death  and  Hades,  Alpha  and  Omega, 


58        THE  LIGHT  OF  THE  WORLD 

undestroyed  because  indestructible,  undying  because 
deathless. 

Some  very  practical  thoughts  arise  out  of  this 
great  truth  of  Christ's  unfailingness.  One  is  this: 
The  height  of  life  to  which  earth-pilgrims  of  ancient 
and  modern  years  have  attained  in  the  Land  that 
has  no  need  of  sun  or  moon.  *'  At  what  price,'* 
Socrates  asked  of  his  judges,  who  had  condemned 
him  to  death,  ''  would  you  not  estimate  a  conference 
with  Orpheus  and  Musasus,  Hesiod  and  Homer  ?  I 
indeed  should  be  willing  to  die  again,  if  this  should 
be  true."  Well,  it  must  be  true,  even  though  to  our 
thing-cursed  era,  groaning  under  its  weight  of  iron 
and  stone  and  stubble,  such  a  thought  may  be 
deemed  impractical  and  quite  out  of  place.  Yet  it  is 
hard  to  believe  that  any  normal  soul  can  repress  a 
thrill  of  joy  as  he  thinks  of  the  spiritual  stature  of 
the  noble  dead  who  have  for  ages  been  growing 
more  and  more  alive.  How  intensely  alive  they 
must  be  today!  Think  of  that  trinity  of  the  old 
dispensation — Moses,  Elijah,  and  Elisha.  Two  of 
them  were  glad  to  vacate  Heaven  long  enough  to 
meet  with  Christ  on  the  Mount  of  Transfiguration. 
Unto  what  majestic  proportions  of  manhood  all 
must  have  attained  under  the  tutelage  of  the  Master 
in  Glory !  Dante  said  that  the  dying  Stephen  ''  made 
his  eyes  gates  to  behold  the  skies."  H  under  that 
deadly  rain  of  stones,  Stephen's  face  took  on  an 
angelic  brightness,  how  could  average  mortals  dare 
to  look  at  that  face,  now  that  it  has  been  gazing 


THE  LIGHT  OF  THE  WORLD         59 

so  long  into  the  fountains  of  beauty  flowing  from 
the  Christ?  Stephen's  face  must  be  Hke  a  ruby 
smitten  by  the  sun,  or,  as  the  old  song  suggests, 
there  must  be  more  than  a  garden  in  his  face ;  some- 
thing of  the  ultimate  beauty,  born  of  the  very  life 
of  God,  must  have  passed  into  his  countenance. 
Ruskin  called  Dante  the  central  man  of  all  the 
world ;  and  Carlyle  held  that  "  Dante  is  world-great 
not  because  he  is  world-wide,  but  because  he  is 
world-deep."  But  there  are  those  who  think  that 
Dante's  world-greatness  is  due  neither  to  his  world- 
wideness  nor  to  his  world-deepness,  but  to  his 
heaven-highness.  A  kind  of  supernatural  loftiness, 
a  strain  of  celestial  sublimity,  characterizes  this  man 
who  gave  voice  to  ten  dumb  centuries.  But  do  you 
not  think  that  that  august  man  has  grown  tremen- 
dously during  his  six  hundred  years'  absence  from 
the  earth?  Who  shall  say  what  grander  dimen- 
sions are  his,  with  his  nearer,  clearer  vision  of  that 
Love  which  moves  "  the  sun  in  Heaven  and  all  the 
stars?" 

A  further  consideration  is  the  encouragement 
which  Christ's  fathomless  Saviourhood  gives  to  men 
and  women  now  on  the  earth,  right  here  in  the 
thick  of  things,  when  the  planet  seems  staggering 
under  its  weight  of  woe  and  sin  and  injustice. 
Emerson  once  said  that  the  man  never  lived  who 
could  feed  us  ever.  And  he  is  grandly  right — no 
mere  man  can  be  the  Bread  of  Life  to  the  souls  of 
men.     Some  of  these  ages,  those  belated  thinkers, 


60         THE  LIGHT  OF  THE  WORLD 

professing  to  be  advanced,  will  wake  up  to  the  fact 
that  they  are  some  centuries  behind  the  times.  We 
are  only  truly  up  with  the  times  as  we  are  livingly 
in  with  the  eternities.  No — a  thousand  times  no — 
no  mere  man  can  feed  us;  but  God  manifest  in  the 
flesh ;  God  strengthening  our  weakness ;  God  stoop- 
ing to  our  lowliness  and  lifting  us  to  the  high,  still 
places  in  Christ — such  a  God  verily  feeds  all  who 
will  have  His  food.  Imparting  to  blind  mortal  eyes 
the  loveliness  that  is  immortal.  He  makes  life  sud- 
denly sweet  by  opening  it  to  His  unsearchable  riches. 
In  His  presence  hunger  and  thirst  vanish  utterly 
away,  save  as  they  make  the  soul  more  capacious  for 
His  food  and  drink.  Giving  to  men  a  distinct 
heavenliness  of  temper.  He  makes  them  assuredly 
aware  that,  however  dark  the  night,  the  shadow- 
draped  hills  but  conceal  a  brighter  dawn.  **  I  am 
the  light  of  the  world" — the  light  of  all  worlds; 
the  light  that  never  goes  out,  but  burns  glowingly 
on  and  on,  until  Heaven's  light  and  earth's  darkness 
shall  kiss  each  other  in  the  white  radiance  of  Eter- 
nity. What  a  glorious  commentary  on  this  passage 
is  Mrs.  Alice  Meynell's  poem,  "  Christ  in  the  Uni- 
verse," than  which  Albert  Cock,  in  the  British  Re- 
view, said  a  greater  poem  had  not  been  written  in 
the  last  one  hundred  years : 

"With  the  ambiguous  earth 

His  dealings  have  been  told  us;  these,  abide; 
The  signal  to  a  maid,  the  human  birth, 
The  lesson,  and  the  Young  Man  crucified. 


THE  LIGHT  OF  THE   WORLD         61 

But  not  a  star  of  all 

The  unimaginable  stars  has  heard 
How  He  administered  this  terrestrial  ball ; 

Our  race  have  kept  their  Lord's  entrusted  word. 

Of  those  earth-visiting  feet 

None  knows  the  secret,  cherished,  perilous — 
The  terrible,  shamefast,  frightened,  whispered,  sweet 

Heart-shattering  secret  of  His  way  with  us. 

No  planet  knows  that  this 

Our  wayside  planet,  carrying  land  and  wave, 
Love  and  life  multiplied,  and  pain  and  bliss, 

Bears  as  chief  treasure  one  forsaken  grave. 

Nor  in  our  little  day. 

May  his  devices  with  the  heavens  be  guessed, 
His  pilgrimage  to  thread  the  Milky  Way, 

Or  His  bestowals  there  be  manifest. 

But  in  the  eternities 

Doubtless  we  shall  compare  together,  hear 
A  million  alien  gospels,  in  what  guise 

He  walked  the  Pleiades,  the  Lyre,  the  Bear. 

Oh,  be  prepared,  my  soul! 

To  read  the  inconceivable,  to  scan 
The  million  forms  of  God  those  stars  unroll 

When  in  our  turn  we  show  to  them— a  Man." 


IV 

THE  RELIGION  OF  CHILDHOOD  * 

"Moreover  his  mother  made  him  a  little  robe,  and  brought 
it  to  him  from  year  to  year,  when  she  came  up  with  her 
husband   to   offer  the  yearly  sacrifice." — I   Sam,  11:19. 

I  AM  very  much  embarrassed  tonight,  my 
friends.  I  am  chafing  under  the  lock  of  sealed 
lips.  Your  pastor  commands  me  to  say  nothing 
about  him  in  this  anniversary  sermon.  I  am  not 
to  mention  his  name,  not  to  speak  of  his  work,  not 
to  say  anything  about  the  conspicuous  part  he  has 
played  in  emphasizing  the  religion  of  childhood  in 
the  Christian  Church.  He  is  the  originator  of  the 
Junior  Congregation;  but  I  must  not  mention  it. 
He  is  the  greatest  preacher  to  children,  the  severest 
of  all  critics,  in  the  world ;  but  I  would  not  dare  to 
say  such  a  thing  in  this  presence.  He  is  loved  by  the 
children  of  Brooklyn  and  of  the  country  as  no  other 
minister;  still  I  can  say  absolutely  nothing  about 
this.  He  must  continue  to  be  loved  on  in  tongueless 
silence!  He  has  published  volumes  dealing  with 
the  religious  life  of  the  child  which  have  become 
classics ;  but  alas !  that  is  a  matter  for  reviews  and 

*  Anniversary  sermon  in  First  Reformed  Church,  Brooklyn, 
November  14,  1915, 


THE  RELIGION  OF  CHILDHOOD      63 

reviewers — I  am  not  even  privileged  to  refer  to  it. 
Am  I  not  in  an  embarrassing  situation  indeed? 
Why,  there  are  so  many  things  that  couid  be  said, 
and  ought  to  be  said,  at  this  time ;  but  I  must  leave 
them  thoughtlessly  alone.  My  lips  are  sealed;  my 
tongue  is  tied;  I  can't  even  mention  Doctor  Farrar's 
name.  I  would  like  to  tell  him  how  the  ministers 
of  the  land  love  him;  but  I  am  strictly  forbidden. 
I  would  like  to  say  to  him  how  grateful  w^e  are  for 
his  pioneer  work  on  behalf  of  the  children  of  the 
nation;  but  I  am  doomed  to  silence.  Imagine  my 
unique  and  solitary  loneliness  in  a  day  when  every- 
body is  talking  at  everybody,  and  everybody  talking 
at  the  same  time!  Doctor  Albert  J.  Lyman,  the 
golden-souled,  said  Doctor  Farrar  brought  us  a  great 
new  thought:  To  create  a  real  Church  out  of  chil- 
dren instead  of  merely  training  them  up  for  the 
Church.  That  in  itself,  so  richly  characteristic  of 
our  vanished  velvet  heart,  ought  to  be  repeated  here 
and  now ;  but  alas  and  alack !  I  am  under  promise 
not  to  say  one  word  of  a  personal  nature.  And  I 
always  try  to  keep  my  promises — at  least  some  of 
them.  That  I  am  succeeding  fairly  well  tonight,  you 
may  judge  for  yourselves. 

Notwithstanding  my  handicap,  however,  this  is  a 
joyful  occasion.  Muzzled  as  I  am  by  the  lack  of 
free  speech,  that  dangerous  oral  shell  so  recklessly 
tossed  about  by  Americans  and — others,  I  am  re- 
solved to  wear  my  fetters  becomingly  and  not  un- 


64     THE  RELIGION  OF  CHILDHOOD 

duly  kick  against  the  goads.  Isn't  that  orthodoxi- 
cally  Pauhne  ?  Every  one  should  be  happy,  though 
human — that  is  my  philosophy  of  life,  and  I  am 
going  to  practise  it  even  if  I  am  forbidden  to  talk 
as  I  should  like.  My  subject  is,  ''  The  Religion  of 
Childhood."  I  wish  to  catch  at  least  the  afterglow 
of  some  of  these  lightninglike  forces  flashing  to  and 
fro  in  this  unfadingly  beautiful  picture  and  story 
of  Samuel's  childhood.  If  I  occasionally  turn  aside 
to  apply  the  lessons  to  the  children  of  today,  the 
facts  and  forces  shaping  their  lives,  you  must  not 
presumptuously  infer  that  I  am  speaking  of  local 
or  personal  matters,  or  of  an3^thing  that  is  remotely 
germane  to  this  anniversary  occasion.  Am  I  not 
under  promise  to  be  icily,  freezingly  impersonal? 
Have  I  not  said  that  I  would  be  spinelessly  neutral 
in  recounting  any  of  the  grave  issues  between  the 
pastor  of  this  Church  and  the  religious  life  of  chil- 
dren? Meantime,  I  am  going  to  be  brave  because 
I  know  I  have  your  sympathy  and  your  pity. 
Imagine  a  ravenously  hungry  man  within  easy  reach 
of  the  most  deliciously  appetizing  food.  Everything 
he  craves  is  right  there  before  him.  All  he  has  to 
do  is  to  reach  forth  and  take  what  he  wants.  And 
yet  he  must  not  eat  one  bite !  He  is  the  victim  of 
"touch  not,  taste  not,  handle  not."  Well,  that 
hungry  man  is  my  twin  brother  in  tribulation.  I 
am  sitting  at  a  feast  of  memory,  at  the  close  of  an 
epoch,  at  the  dawn  of  a  larger  beginning?  In  vision, 
I  see  boys  and  girls,   who  are  now   fathers  and 


THE  RELIGION  OF  CHILDHOOD     65 

mothers,  gone  out  into  all  the  earth  from  this  origi- 
nal Junior  Congregation ;  and  yet — my  vision  must 
fade — unvoiced,  unworded,  unpainted! 


Turning  to  this  lovely  history,  the  first  factor  I 
find  in  the  child's  religion — the  sweetest,  the  purest, 
the  simplest  this  side  of  the  angels — is  motherhood. 
"  Moreover  his  mother !  "  Ah,  what  histories,  what 
heroisms,  what  poems,  what  consecrations,  what 
loves  go  forever  ringing  and  singing  through  the 
words !  As  the  source  lies  back-  of  the  river,  as  the 
sun  overhangs  the  million-tinted  meadows  of  June, 
as  the  atmosphere  lends  itself  to  the  trilling  voices 
of  birds  in  the  green  of  the  year,  so  the  mother 
stands  back  of  her  child,  overhangs  her  child, 
breathes  through  her  child.  Who  was  Augustine? 
A  saint — plus  his  mother !  Who  was  John  Wesley  ? 
A  statesman-evangelist — plus  his  mother!  Who 
was  Abraham  Lincoln  ?  A  great  human  redeemer — 
plus  his  mother !  Who  was  Henry  Ward  Beecher  ? 
Our  supreme  preacher — plus  his  mother!  And  so 
the  story  runs — the  swift,  dazzling,  fire-footed,  soul- 
fashioning  stuff  that  makes  the  heart  of  history 
throb  with  divine  flame.  "  But  that  is  old,"  you 
say.  "I  have  heard  it  so  often."  Yes;  it  is  old, 
very  old — as  old  as  the  heart  of  God,  as  old  as  the 
deepmost,  innermost  genius  of  the  universe,  as  old 
as  the  first  atom  that  went  into  the  making  of  the 


66     THE  RELIGION  OF  CHILDHOOD 

first  pillar  supporting  the  domed  heavens!  And  yet 
this  old,  old  thing  is  so  enchantingly  new  that  it 
thrills  us,  it  awes  us,  it  inspires  us.  Oh,  how  mov- 
ingly, how  fascinatingly  new  it  is!  New  as  the 
smile  of  innocence  upon  the  faces  of  little  children ! 
New  as  the  love  which  each  generation  of  lovers 
whisper  in  moonlight  and  starglow!  New  as  the 
last  prayer  of  faith  that  soars  up  from  a  quickened 
soul  to  the  throne  of  grace!  New  as  the  newest 
aspiration  stirring  our  wills  to  do  God's  will  on 
earth  even  as  it  is  done  in  Heaven!  Truly,  this 
factor  of  motherhood  so  shaping  her  child  that  her 
child  shapes  the  world  into  which  he  comes  for 
righteousness  and  for  God,  is  very  old  and  very 
new.  But,  better  than  being  old  or  new,  it  is  ever- 
lastingly true. 

How  many  mothers,  think  you,  have  been  brought 
to  a  more  vivid  consciousness  of  the  meaning  of 
their  motherhood  by  the  Junior  Congregation  and 
its  Father?  No  man  can  say,  because  they  are  a 
multitude,  scattered  here,  there,  and  yonder,  which 
no  man  can  number.  But  of  this  much  it  is  our 
plain,  unvarnished  duty  to  bear  witness :  Mothers 
have  been  recalled  to  a  deep  new  sense  of  their 
mothering  responsibilities  by  seeing  the  unfolding 
religious  life  of  their  children  normally  developed 
in  this  great  little  Church  dedicated  to  the  service 
of  little  great  people!  And  if  I  were  not  under 
promise  to  be  stoically  impersonal,  I  would  turn 
aside  just  here  to  say  that  because  of  his  work  for 


THE  RELIGION  OF  CHILDHOOD      67 

children,  Doctor  Farrar's  name  is  a  household  word 
in  countless  homes. 

II 

A  second  factor  in  the  religion  of  childhood  is 
discretion.  "  His  mother  made  him  a  little  robe." 
Hannah  did  not  try  to  make  her  husband's  religious 
clothes  fit  little  Samuel,  the  prophet-to-be.  She 
knew  that  Samuel  had  his  own  religious  life  to  live. 
It  must  not  be  a  forced,  stereotyped,  mechanical,  un- 
natural religion.  The  child's  religion  is  untaught 
and  untrained,  of  course,  yet  it  is  spontaneous  and 
sincere.  Therefore,  it  must  be  bright,  joyous, 
wholesome,  healthful.  Henry  Drummond  was 
fond  of  repeating  this  story  of  a  little  girl.  She  said 
to  her  father :  "  Papa,  I  want  you  to  say  something 
for  God  to  me,  something  I  want  to  tell  Him  very 
much.  I  have  such  a  little  voice  that  I  don't  think 
He  could  hear  it  away  up  in  Heaven ;  but  you  have 
a  big  man's  voice,  and  He  will  be  sure  to  hear 
you."  Taking  the  child  in  his  arms,  the  father  told 
her  that,  though  God  were  at  that  moment  sur- 
rounded by  his  holy  angels,  singing  to  Him  one  of 
the  grandest  and  sweetest  songs  of  praise  ever  heard 
in  Heaven,  he  was  sure  that  God  would  say  to  them : 
"  Hush !  There's  a  little  girl  away  down  on  the 
earth,  who  wants  to  whisper  something  in  My  ear." 
Was  he  not  a  wise  father  ?  Was  he  not  a  Christian 
father?    Did  he  not  have  the  genius  of  making  re- 


68     THE  RELIGION  OF  CHILDHOOD 

ligion  real  to  that  realest  of  all  mortals,  the  child? 
Now,  graciously  emphasizing  this  factor  of  dis- 
cretion in  dealing  with  the  spiritual  life  of  our 
children,  is  one  of  the  fine  contributions  the  Junior 
Congregation  makes  to  the  well-rounded  activities 
of  the  Church.  When  we  consider  how  much  in- 
discretion there  has  been  and  still  is  in  this  matter, 
we  ought  to  appreciate  that  contribution  all  the 
more.  *'  Do  you  think  my  little  girl  is  old  enough 
to  join  the  Church? ''  asked  a  mother.  "  How  old 
is  she?  "  rejoined  the  pastor.  *'  She  is  only  seven- 
teen," replied  the  mother.  Poor  little  thing!  Verily, 
she  is  old  enough  for  church  membership!  More- 
over, if  she  had  had  the  privilege  of  growing  up  in 
a  Junior  Congregation,  which,  as  Dr.  Lyman  says, 
creates  a  Church  out  of  children  instead  of  merely 
training  them  up  for  the  Church,  the  mother  might 
never  have  asked  that  rebukingly  accusing  question. 


Ill 

Vigilance,  watchfulness,  is  a  third  factor  in  the 
religious  life  of  children.  Samuel  had  a  mother — a 
godly  mother ;  she  was  discreet — a  disciple  of  com- 
mon sense;  and  she  was  keenly  awake  to  her  boy's 
growing,  unfolding  life.  She  did  not  bring  up  last  Iv, 
year's  robe  for  this  year's  Samuel ;  she  "  brought ' 
it  to  him  from  year  to  year."  Samuel  is  the  same, 
and  yet  not  the  same.  Samuel  retains  his  self-iden- 
tity from  year  to  year,  but  he  does  not  experience 


THE  RELIGION  OF  CHILDHOOD      69 

the  same  religious  thoughts  and  emotions  during 
each  successive  year.  The  miracle  of  growth  is  in 
his  nature ;  the  inner  and  outer  powers  of  expansion 
are  asserting  themselves;  it  has  been  decreed  from 
eternity  that  Samuel  is  a  moving,  changing  being  in 
a  moving,  changing  world.  Which  way  shall  he 
move?    How  shall  he  change? 

These  questions  may  be  helpfully  answered  by  the 
vigilant  eyes  of  parents,  preachers,  and  teachers. 
From  year  to  year  we  must  enter  more  deeply  into 
our  children's  religious  thinking.  From  year  to 
year  we  must  make  an  ampler,  finer  robe  for  their 
spiritual  natures.  From  year  to  year  we  must  ap- 
proach them  more  understandingly,  more  sympa- 
thetically. They  are  young  and  fresh  and  sparkling; 
for  them  life's  at  the  spring;  they  are  rigid 
critics  of  the  antiquated  and  out-of-date.  We 
may  be  tempted  to  grow  wickedly  old,  cynically  un- 
childlike,  losing  touch  with  this  strange,  mystical, 
new  human  world  unfolding  itself  before  our  very 
eyes. 

Just  here,  it  seems  to  me,  comes  in  one  of  the 
essential  values  of  the  work  we  are  commemorating 
tonight.  It  keeps  pace  with  the  inner,  unfolding  life 
of  boys  and  girls.  It  does  not  allow  our  children  to 
pass  through  their  plastic  years,  receive  the  mould 
of  little  pagans,  then  wander  away  into  the  far 
country,  eventually  coming  back  to  decency  broken 
and  bleeding  specimens  of  what  they  might  have 
been.     Rather,  it  seizes  the  truth  that  the  soul  be- 


70     THE  RELIGION  OF  CHILDHOOD 

longs  to  God;  that  all  souls  have  been  redeemed  in 
Christ;  that  every  soul  may  be  trained,  not  to  suc- 
ceed in  life,  but  to  succeed  in  living;  that  the  time 
to  begin  is  childhood;  and  the  time  to  end — never! 
God  will  complete  that  good  work  which  we  have 
here  begun.  "  My  son  writes  to  me  every  night  be- 
fore he  sleeps,"  a  justly  proud  mother  said  to  me  the 
other  evening.  Many  faithful  sons  and  daughters 
have  been  born  in  this  old  Church.  If,  in  various 
parts  of  the  world,  they  look  with  increasing  grati- 
tude to  their  mother  church,  it  is  because  the  mother 
church  took  them  in  their  childhood  and  taught 
them  that  Christianity  is  not  something  to  be  patched 
onto  the  robe  of  life;  but  that  it  is  the  robe  itself, 
woven  without  seam  throughout,  dynamically  in- 
spiring, beautifully  comforting  and  nobly  sustaining 
all  through  their  checkered,  unfolding  human  years. 
This  Church  has  simply  given  its  little  folks  a 
chance  to  develop  and  express  their  own  religious 
hopes  and  aspirations.  It  is  what  every  church 
should  do;  and  because  of  your  noble  example  and 
wise  leadership,  churches  everywhere  are  going  to 
give  this  matter  its  rightful  place  in  their  thought 
and  practice. 


IV 

The  fourth  factor  I  mention  is  fatherhood.  Who 
accompanied  this  ancient  mother,  as  she  journeyed 
year  after  year  to  Jerusalem,  carrying  a  new  robe 


THE  RELIGION  OF  CHILDHOOD      71 

for  young  Samuel?  Happily,  the  answer  is  at 
hand :  "  She  came  up  with  her  husband."  Did  you 
husbands  hear  that?  "  She  came  up  with  her  hus- 
band " — do  not  lightly  pass  over  that  part  of  my 
text,  O  men  and  fathers!  Very  little  is  known  of 
Elkanah,  Hannah's  husband.  Hannah  seems  to 
have  been  a  full-fledged  suffragette  before  New 
Jersey  and  New  York  were  on  the  map.  Evidently, 
she  was  the  guiding  spirit  of  that  far-off  home. 
Elkanah,  from  all  accounts,  simply  occupied  a  posi- 
tion of  "  benevolent  neutrality."  And  yet,  as  little 
as  we  know  of  Elkanah,  that  little  is  most  important. 
It  is  this :  He  did  not  attend  church  by  proxy.  He 
did    not    say :    "  The    temple    is    well    enough    for 

Hannah  and  the  boy;  but "    No;  he  did  not  say 

that,  and  then  turn  to  the  pink  edition  of  the 
Jerusalem  Daily  Times  to  feast  his  eyes  upon  the 
latest  sensation  or  reptilian  scandal !  Elkanah  went 
up  with  his  wife  to  the  house  of  God,  where  their 
child  was  being  wisely  and  definitely  moulded  for 
time  and  eternity. 

And  this  is  one  of  the  things  we  are  commemorat- 
ing tonight :  The  influence  of  the  Junior  Congrega- 
tion upon  the  Senior,  the  leadership  of  childhood  in 
its  relation  to  men  and  women.  You  fathers  owe 
a  vast  debt  to  the  little  folk  assembling  here 
throughout  the  years.  The  trust  of  a  child  has  put 
many  a  man's  blackest  doubts  to  shame.  A  friend 
gave  me  a  story  the  other  day  of  the  fam.ous  men 
who    met    at    Ferguson's    house    in    Edinburgh. 


72     THE  RELIGION  OF  CHILDHOOD 

Dugald  Stewart,  the  philosopher;  Hutton,  the 
geologist;  Adam  Smith,  the  author  of  *'  The  Wealth 
of  Nations  " ;  and  Robert  Burns,  the  Scotch  skylark 
— all  of  them  were  there.  Yes;  and  a  little  tow- 
headed  boy  named  Walter  was  there.  Looking  at  a 
picture  on  the  wall,  Burns  read  beneath  it  a  coup- 
let that  appealed  to  him.  He  inquired  the  author  of 
the  lines,  but  none  of  the  famous  men  knew.  Yet 
the  little  towhead  knew,  and  he  whispered  the 
author's  name  to  the  man  nearest  him,  and  the  man 
told  the  great  poet.  Then  Burns  called  the  boy  to 
him.  Placing  his  hand  on  his  head,  he  said :  **  You 
will  be  a  greater  man  than  your  grandfather."  Sir 
Walter  Scott — for  the  little  towheaded  boy  became 
the  world-famous  wizard  of  romance — said  that  the 
moment  when  Robert  Burns  put  his  hand  upon  his 
head  was  the  hour  of  his  ordination  in  literature. 
Now,  my  friend  had  written  upon  the  margin  of  the 
white  sheet  to  which  the  story  was  pinned,  these 
words :  "  Ordination  of  a  child."  Can  you  guess 
the  name  of  my  friend?  Well,  while  you  are  guess- 
ing, let  me  say  that  this  same  friend,  many  years 
ago  in  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  was  asked  to  go  on 
a  serious  errand.  It  was  night,  and  the  man  who 
called  at  the  pastor's  house  had  the  face  of  a  crimi- 
nal. He  said  he  wanted  the  minister  to  go  to  see 
a  sick  child.  And  the  minister  went.  The  house 
was  located  in  one  of  the  desperate  sections  of  the 
city;  and,  indeed,  the  haunt  where  the  sick  child  was 
resembled  a  den  for  criminals  more  than  a  house. 


THE  RELIGION  OF  CHILDHOOD     7S 

As  they  climbed  up  the  dark,  tottering  stairway,  the 
minister  was  greeted  by  the  growls  of  a  ferocious 
bulldog.  "  Weren't  you  afraid?  "  I  asked,  breath- 
lessly, as  he  told  me  the  story.  "  Well,  you  see,",  he 
replied  with  a  twinkle  in  his  fun-loving  eyes,  "  under 
the  circumstances  I  wouldn't  have  been  altogether 
human  not  to  have  felt  a  few  chills  chasing  each 
other  up  and  down  my  spinal  column."  And  then 
he  paused,  adding  quickly :  "  Just  then  I  heard  a 
sick  little  child  crying,  and  I  knew  I  was  safe."  A 
child  had  ordained  his  safety,  a  child  had  led  him 
on  the  mission  of  the  Master,  and  all  these  years  he 
has  been  one  of  the  faithful  servants  of  our  children. 
When  Mr.  Widener  died  last  week,  he  was  described 
as  a  capitalist,  a  philanthropist,  an  art  collector,  and 
a  lover  of  children.  The  supreme  distinction  is  the 
last,  and  without  which  the  others  make  life  weary, 
stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable.  And  it  is  because  you 
are  a  lover  of  children.  Doctor  Farrar,  (I  must 
break  my  promise,  and  be  personal  for  a  moment,) 
that  we  love  you.  Through  your  ministry  to  chil- 
dren, you  have  not  only  served  them,  but  you  have 
made  a  profound  appeal  to  fathers  and  mothers, 
who,  because  of  you,  have  dedicated  themselves 
more  joyously  and  devotedly  to  the  religious  nurture 
and  training  of  their  children.  Because  of  this,  and 
because  of  you — you,  with  your  great  big,  brother- 
ing,  childlike  heart — we  bring  you  the  greetings  of 
the  city.-i  *' Look  for  me,"  said  Francis  Thompson, 
"  in  the  nurseries  of  Heaven."     May  it  be  a  long. 


74     THE  RELIGION  OF  CHILDHOOD 

long  time  before  we  miss  your  familiar  figure  from 
the  streets  of  Brooklyn;  but  when  we  do,  we  shall 
know  where  to  find  you — in  the  nurseries  of 
Heaven,  still  loving  little  children,  still  loved  by  little 
children,  and  still  led  by  little  children  into  ever- 
enlarging  dimensions  of  your  own  Christlike  man- 
hood! 


THE  HIGHER  UNITY 

"■  There  can  be  neither  Jew  nor  Greek,  there  can  he  neither 
bond  nor  free,  there  can  he  no  male  and  female;  for  ye  are 
all  one  in  Christ  Jesus." — Gal.  hi  :  28. 

IN  hours  of  crises,  a  great  soul  sometimes  catches 
and  flashes  forth  a  light  which  can  never  be 
extinguished.  Ever  afterward,  amid  life's 
spiritual,  mental,  and  social  darkness,  that  light 
shines  upon  the  pathway  of  the  race  like  a  beacon 
from  the  infinite  morning.  Such  a  light  shines  out 
in  our  text.  Kindled  by  one  of  those  eager,  pas- 
sionate, white-hot,  soul-creative  moods  when  a 
man's  being  is  on  fire,  it  defies  the  winds  of  the 
world  to  blow  it  out.  They  simply  blow  it  on,  not 
out,  up  and  over  and  across,  until  the  world  is  en- 
circled by  the  glory  of  it.  All  that  was  dear  to  Paul 
— his  teaching,  his  life-work,  his  spiritual  vision,  his 
faith  in  God — was  at  stake.  The  proposition  he  had 
been  challenged  to  meet  and  settle  was  this :  Was 
Christianity  to  be  the  ultimate  world-religion — 
thrilling  with  history  and  throbbing  with  eternity — 
or  was  it  to  be  supplemented  by  Judaism?  Was  it 
to  go  forward,  majestic,  life-giving,  invincible,  or 
was  it  to  go  backward,  dwindling  at  last  to  the 

75 


76  THE   HIGHER  UNITY 

dimensions  of  the  cradle  in  which  its  infancy  was 
rocked,  perishing  before  it  was  given  opportunity  to 
lift  up  its  voice  in  the  world's  highways  and  by- 
ways? The  apostle's  answer  is  my  text.  It  is  the 
word  of  a  super-statesman.  Breaking  all  purely 
human  bounds,  it  voices  the  genius  of  Heaven  and 
earth.  After  looking  the  world's  untoward  facts 
squarely  in  the  face,  Paul  dauntlessly  grasps  the 
higher,  the  larger,  the  completing  realities  of  Christ. 
For  the  twanging,  clanging  discords  of  men  and 
nations,  he  substitutes  the  higher  unity  revealed  in 
his  Lord  and  Master. 


By  way  of  approaching  the  higher  unity,  let  us 
consider,  first,  the  discords  of  history.  What  are 
their  roots,  their  causes?  Are  they  not  begotten  by 
the  perversion  of  the  truth  contained  in  this  text? 
What  produces,  for  example,  racial  discord,  alto- 
gether aside  from  natural  intellectual  antagonisms, 
moral  and  political  differences  ?  Certainly  each  race 
owes  its  existence  to  the  same  God.  Nobody  dis- 
putes the  truth  that  Jew,  Greek,  Slav,  Teuton,  Frank, 
Anglo-Saxon,  one  and  all,  have  the  same  Creator. 
Then  why  are  they  not  able  to  live  together  in  peace 
in  this  great  household  named  the  world?  That, 
of  course,  is  a  question  that  goes  to  the  very  heart 
of  the  philosophy  of  history.  It  wilF  hardly  be 
answered  in  a  sermon  or  in  many  volumes.     But 


THE  HIGHER  UNITY  77 

of  this  much  we  are  sure,  and  up  to  this  point,  the 
question  gets  itself  answered:  Racial  discords  are 
engendered  and  accentuated  when  one  race,  or  one 
nation,  wantonly  trespasses  upon  the  inherent  rights 
and  individuality  of  another  race  or  nation.  It 
could  not  be  otherwise  so  long  as  human  nature  is 
what  it  is.  Nations  have  an  individuality  just  as 
persons  have  an  individuality.  Therefore,  nations, 
races,  have  the  God-given  right  to  live  their  own 
life;  but  no  race,  no  nation,  has  the  right  to  auto- 
cratically impose  its  life  upon  another  race  or  nation, 
A  nation  may  assume  that  it  has  such  a  right;  a 
people  may  become  so  conceited,  so  chauvinistic, 
so  fanatical  over  their  own  methods  of  life  as  to 
sincerely  believe  that  they  are  called  of  God  to  force, 
to  impose,  literally,  their  national  habits  upon 
another  people.  But  such  fanaticism  invariably 
results  in  disaster.  It  is  the  old,  old  weakness  of 
ignoring  the  viewpoint  of  the  other  man.  Because, 
as  an  individual,  I  entertain  certain  convictions, 
adhere  to  certain  religious  and  political  principles, 
believe  in  certain  social  doctrines,  why  that  is  no 
absolutely  valid  argument  for  my  neighbour  enter- 
taining them.  While  mine  may  be  superior  to  his, 
they  may  be  inferior.  More  fundamental  still,  and 
deeper  than  any  logical  or  intellectual  aspect  of  the 
matter,  my  neighbour  likes  to  do  his  own  thinking, 
prefers  to  do  his  own  voting,  believes  in  living  his 
own  life.  If  he  is  wrong  and  I  am  right,  it  is  my 
privilege  to  be  a  religious,  political,  or  intellectual 


78  THE   HIGHER   UNITY 

missionary  and  try  to  convert  him;  but  what 
right  have  I  to  shoot  him,  or  shell  him,  or  slander 
him? 

Now  a  nation  is  made  up  of  individuals,  and 
out  of  these  individuals  comes  a  definite  national 
consciousness,  a  distinct  racial  individuality  that 
cannot  be  imposed  upon  with  impunity.  For  races 
live  and  move  and  have  their  being  in  God,  God 
designs  that  each  shall  make  a  specific  contribution 
to  the  life  of  the  whole,  even  though  at  stated  epochs 
nations  undertake  to  break  away  from  God,  sell 
themselves  to  do  evil,  and  are  dehumanized  in  the 
hell  of  war.  I  think  of  God  and  the  nations  as  I  do 
of  New  York  Bay  and  the  various  craft  upon  its 
waters.  Looking  out  my  study  window,  I  see  tugs, 
yachts,  barges,  launches,  ocean  liners,  and  some- 
times a  dreadnought.  But  the  water  treats  them  all 
alike;  it  fits  the  shape  and  size  of  every  one. 
Furthermore,  over  its  liquid  streets  every  vessel  may 
glide  on  to  its  haven.  But  just  let  the  launch  get 
in  the  way  of  the  tugboat,  or  the  tugboat  in  the 
way  of  the  palatial  ship,  or  the  ship  in  the  way  of 
the  dreadnought,  and  there  is  ruin  and  disaster. 
But  is  the  water  responsible  for  the  wreckage  ?  Not 
at  all.  The  water  treats  its  floating  children  im- 
partially, opens  its  silvery  paths  to  serve  each,  offers 
a  billowy  roadway  for  all  to  reach  their  respective 
goals.  Who,  then,  but  the  pilot — barring  storm 
and  unavoidable  accidents — is  responsible  for  his 
vessel's  safety?     He  is  the  guiding  spirit,  the  boat 


THE  HIGHER  UNITY  79 

is  the  obedient  body,  and  it  moves  in  whatever 
direction  he  wills. 

The  defects  of  the  simile  are  patent  enough.  A 
personal  God  cannot  be  likened  unto  an  impersonal 
element  named  water;  the  long,  sinuous  windings 
of  a  nation's  career  are  not  so  simple  as  a  vessel's 
journey  from  port  to  port;  nor  is  the  spirit  of  a 
living  people  happily  compared  unto  an  automatic, 
lifeless  thing  such  as  a  boat.  And  yet,  notwith- 
standing its  obvious  defects,  I  am  not  sure  that  my 
illustration  should  be  discounted  entirely.  For  that 
figure  of  the  pilot,  not  merely  of  boats  but  of  states, 
looms  so  large,  and  his  acts  reach  so  far,  that  he 
must  be  reckoned  with.  In  a  word,  it  is  when  the 
pilot  turns  pirate  that  the  sea  is  a  place  of  anarchy 
and  chaos;  and  it  is  when  the  leaders  of  a  people 
become  brigands  at  heart,  though  masquerading 
under  the  name  of  statesmen  pleading  the  necessity 
of  national  expansion  and  kindred  twaddle, — it  is 
then  that  the  world  runs  red  with  blood  and  roars 
with  the  flame  of  war.  Is  not  this  indeed  one  of  the 
iron-toned  discords  of  history — the  spirit  that 
prompts  one  race  or  nation  to  impose  its  methods  of 
government  upon  another  race  or  nation?  Nor  is 
the  enormity  of  the  crime  lessened  because  its  teach- 
ers, scientists,  philosophers,  and  military  vandals 
assert  that  it  is  all  a  part  of  the  cosmic  programme, 
the  evolution  of  hfe  upon  this  planet. 

A  second  of  the  historic  discords,  as  distinct  from 


80  THE   HIGHER   UNITY 

and  yet  interwoven  with  the  racial,  is  political. 
The  bondman  and  the  freeman,  the  slave  and  the 
master — what  a  long,  bitter  fight  have  they  waged 
with  each  other !  The  battle,  of  course,  is  not  over ; 
it  is  one  of  the  backlying  factors  in  this  world-war ; 
but  there  is  no  doubt,  I  think,  as  to  the  ultimate 
outcome.  The  bondman  must  win  his  freedom, 
and  in  winning  his  freedom  he  will  liberate  his 
master,  ofttimes  the  more  abject  slave  of  the  two. 
Really,  when  one  tries  to  think  soberly  of  the  fences 
separating  the  bond  and  the  free,  is  it  not  almost 
incredible  that  they  were  not  levelled,  practically  as 
well  as  theoretically,  long  ago?  For  upon  what 
does  this  doctrine  of  bond  and  free  rest?  In  the 
last  analysis,  it  rests  upon  the  assumption — the  silly, 
thickheaded,  colossal  conceit — that  one  man  is  better 
than  another  man.  Morally  better?  No!  Intel- 
lectually better?  No!  He  may  be  a  composite — 
a  moral  leper  and  mental  blunderbuss  mercifully 
covered  by  one  set  of  skin.  But  lo!  because,  for- 
sooth, his  dead  ancestor  disgraced  a  throne ;  or  else 
he  traces  his  family  line  back  for  seven  generations 
instead  of  going  back  seventy  times  seven  and  view- 
ing the  dugout  in  which  his  forbears  lived;  or  else 
his  father  left  a  fortune,  dooming  him  to  loll  his 
way  through  life,  cheating  him  out  of  all  initiative 
and  noble  adventure — vv^hy  upon  these  and  other 
foundations  as  nonsensically  flimsy,  one  man  idiotic- 
ally assumes  that  he  is  mysteriously  better,  wTought 
of  a  little  finer  clay  than  his  brother  man,  who 


THE   HIGHER   UNITY  81 

manages  to  hold  together  solely  because  he  is  com- 
posed of  rather  stick)^  mud! 

O  men,  in  the  name  of  truth,  stand  out  beneath 
those  stars  that  blaze  and  whirl;  ask  those  cosmic 
fires  that  raged  millions  of  ages  before  there  was 
any  man  to  watch  them  burn ;  listen  to  that  wrinkled 
sea  that  made  its  moan  cycles  before  there  was  the 
pomp  of  a  throne  or  the  crust  of  a  beggar,  and 
which  will  moan  on  and  swallow  up  civilizations 
after  kings  and  peasants  have  lost  their  names  but 
not  their  records;  inquire  of  that  grave  and  the 
coffined  dust  within  it,  which  no  epitaph  can  flatter 
and  no  loud-lipped  monument  can  call  back  to  life; 
above  all,  retire  into  the  hushed,  abysmal  depths 
of  your  own  being  and  inquire  of  that  God  who 
wears  the  universe  as  a  robe  and  stirs  its  myriad 
folds  with  the  breath  of  life — inquire  of  Him  who 
inhabiteth  eternity  wherein  you,  who  break  into  the 
world  with  a  cry  and  leave  it  with  a  groan,  are 
better  than  your  fellow  man !  I  verily  believe  that 
God  will  answer  for  kings  and  peasants,  for  million- 
aires and  paupers,  for  learned  and  ignorant :  "  Je- 
hovah, who  createth  the  ends  of  the  earth,  is  no 
respecter  of  persons,  but  He  is  an  infinitely  em- 
phatic respecter  of  character." 

Still  another  historic  discord  is  suggested  by  my 
text.  It  is  the  debate,  somewhat  acute  in  our  time, 
between  "  male  and  female."  Whatever  one's  views 
upon  the  vital  question  of  equal  suffrage  for  men 


82  THE    HIGHER   UNITY 

and  women,  any  man  capable  of  healthy  shame 
blushes  for  the  agelong  stupidity  of  his  sex  in 
brazenly  assuming  its  superiority  to  woman.  Es- 
sentially, this  is  the  ethic  of  the  forest  projected 
into  human  relations.  The  lioness,  we  are  told, 
never  touches  the  kill  until  his  leonine  majesty  has 
satiated  his  own  hunger.  She  may  have  heroically 
assisted  in  hunting  down  their  dinner ;  but  when  the 
meal  is  prepared,  with  a  lordly  roar  and  a  kingly 
swat  the  lion  invites  his  wife  to  the  rear  while  he 
proceeds  to  do  the  honors  of  his  jungle  banquet! 
Of  course,  if  there  is  anything  left  over,  anything 
that  his  majesty's  digestive  larder  cannot  possibly 
contain,  the  lioness  is  grudgingly  welcome  thereto. 
In  most  savage  tribes  a  similar  rule  is  practised. 
The  male  assumes  his  superiority,  and,  if  ques- 
tioned, quickly  enforces  it  by  his  brute  strength. 
But  when  and  where  did  the  brute  get  his  authority 
to  prescribe  laws  for  human  society?  Is  it  not  time, 
therefore,  that  we  men  were  voluntarily  relinquish- 
ing our  hold  upon  the  habits  of  animals  and  cus- 
toms of  savages?  As  Tennyson  says,  not  one  of 
us  can  altogether  escape  from  the  lower  world 
within;  we  are  yet  in  process  of  being  made,  and 
aeon  after  ?eon  shall  pass  before  the  crowning  Age 
of  ages  comes.  But  we  may  at  least  set  ourselves 
at  such  an  angle  toward  these  and  other  great  human 
problems  as  to  inspire  hope  in  the  ultimate  fulfil- 
ment of  the  larger  and  finer  half  of  the  seer's  great 
picture  of  man : 


THE   HIGHER   UNITY  83 

All  about  him  shadow  still,  but,  while  the  races  flower  and 

fade, 
Prophet-eyes   may    catch    a    glory    slowly    gaining   on    the 

shade, 
Till  the  peoples  all  are  one,  and  all  their  voices  blend  in 

choric 
Hallelujah  to  the  Maker,  *  It  is  finished.    Man  is  made.' " 


II 

But  to  merely  suggest  or  point  out  the  discords 
of  the  world  is  comparatively  easy.  That  requires 
no  great  constructive  power,  no  insight,  no  vision. 
It  is  a  truism  in  literature  that  the  first-rate  critic 
is  a  second-rate  genius.  Is  it  because  his  capacity 
for  fault-finding  kills  out,  finally,  his  creative 
gifts?  It  may  be  so.  Yet  we  could  ill  afford  to 
dispense  with  the  services  of  sincere  criticism. 
Nevertheless,  it  is  the  high  task  of  genius  to  at  once 
find  flaws  and  supply  remedies.  Christianity  does 
that  always.  Revealing  the  abyss,  it  points  the 
way  to  the  height.  Precisely  that  is  Paul's  method 
in  my  text.  Grasping  the  causes  of  racial,  political, 
and  sexual  discords,  he  shows  how  the  jarring  notes 
are  taken  up  into  the  sovereign  harmony.  "  There 
can  be,"  he  says,  "  neither  Jew  nor  Greek,  there  can 
be  neither  bond  nor  free,  there  can  be  no  male  and 
female ;  for  ye  are  all  one  in  Christ  Jesus." 

Let  us  see  how  this  higher  unity  of  man  in  Christ 
works  out.  First  of  all,  apply  the  law  to  race.  Let 
us  use  our  imagination  for  a  moment.  Here  is  a 
vast  circle,  vast  enough  to  include  all  nations,  all 


84  THE   HIGHER   UNITY 

races.  At  the  centre  of  the  circle  is  Christ;  at  the 
circumference  are  the  Slav,  the  Teuton,  the  Frank, 
the  African,  the  Anglo-Saxon.  Now  let  me  ask: 
Will  the  Slav  be  less  a  Slav  because  he  is  Christian  ? 
No.  He  will  be  a  better  Slav,  a  nobler  utterance 
of  what  God  intended  the  Slav  to  be.  Will  the 
Teuton  lose  his  individuality  in  becoming  Christian  ? 
By  no  means.  His  individuality  will  be  raised  to  its 
highest  power.  He  shall  be  able  to  appreciate  the 
viewpoint  of  people  who  differ  from  him.  He  shall 
still  have  the  Teutonic  strain  and  genius;  but  he 
shall  have  something  more — something  that  dis^ 
pels  his  savagery,  something  that  ameliorates  his 
fatalism :  he  shall  have  Christ !  Will  the  French- 
man, the  Anglo-Saxon,  the  Asiatic,  the  African,  be 
less  distinctively  typal  and  individual,  racially  speak- 
ing, when  fully  Christianized,  than  they  are  at 
present?  No.  They  will  be  infinitely  better  types 
of  their  kind.  Thinking  people  do  not  want  the 
nations  to  become  externally  alike.  That  would  be 
to  commit  suicide  by  monotony.  The  process  would 
be  somewhat  slower  than  annihilation  by  war,  but 
not  less  fatal,  I  venture,  to  the  realization  of  a  com- 
plete humanity.  If  the  universe,  and  the  countless 
forms  of  life  within  it,  are  any  criterion,  God  loves 
variety ;  and  woe  betide  the  nation  or  individual  that 
undertakes  to  clothe  the  inner,  unfolding  spirit  of 
the  race  in  one  deadly,  outer  form !  To  be  a  Chris- 
tian, then,  is  to  be  an  American  plus>  a  German 
plus,  a  Frenchman  plus.    For  the  higher  unity  comes 


THE  HIGHER   UNITY  85 

not  by  subtraction,  but  by  addition;  not  by  taking 
away,  but  by  adding  to.  "  Ye  are  all  one  moral 
force,  one  spiritual  society  in  Christ  Jesus."  That 
is  Paul's  thought.  Is  it  not  grand  enough  for  Chris- 
tians to  work  for,  for  statesmen  to  plan  for,  for 
nations  to  live  for?  For,  whether  intentionally  or 
not,  it  is  the  Christian  "  Circle  "  of  which  Mark- 
ham  sings: 

"  He  drew  a  circle  that  shut  me  out — 
Heretic,  rebel,  a  thing  to  clout. 
But  love  and  I  had  the  wit  to  win : 
We  drew  a  circle  that  took  him  in !  " 

Suppose  we  apply  our  law,  also,  to  politics.  Paul 
says  that  in  this  upper,  health-bracing  atmosphere 
there  can  be  neither  bond  nor  free.  He  said  it  to 
Rome,  with  its  scores  of  slaves,  oftentimes,  in  a 
single  household.  The  Roman  aristocrat  had  grown 
such  a  mental  kink  that  he  thought  a  special  permit 
was  issued,  in  the  structure  and  order  of  the  uni- 
verse, whereby  he  was  foreordained  to  freedom 
while  other  men  were  doomed  to  bondage.  But 
Paul  had  later  information  on  the  divine  order  of 
things;  and  he  reported  it  regardless  of  what  the 
censor  might  say  or  do.  Caesar  had  heard  only  the 
yelp  of  the  beast;  but  the  apostle  had  caught  the 
golden  notes  of  angels.  "  Is  not  the  end  of  politics, 
the  science  of  government,  to  serve  me,  to  pamper 
me?  "  asked  the  blue-blooded  Roman,  a  criminal  in 
his  palace,  a  slave  amid  his  pomp.    "  No,"  answered 


86  THE   HIGHER   UNITY 

Paul,  from  his  dungeon.  "  You  and  your  tribe 
are  living  under  a  forged  bill  of  rights;  you  have 
misinterpreted  the  laws  of  the  universe,  which  care 
no  more  for  a  patrician  than  for  a  worm;  and, 
finally,  you  have  not  heard  the  decrees  of  the  King- 
dom of  God.  There  can  be  neither  bond  nor  free 
in  that  Kingdom.  God  cares  more  for  the  hut  of 
the  humblest  good  man  than  He  does  for  the  palace 
of  a  wicked  king.  O  Caesar,  you  are  a  slave  in  your 
Golden  House,  while  I,  Paul,  have  found  freedom 
in  my  dungeon.  Come  out  of  your  gilded  jail, 
therefore,  and  meet  me  on  the  heights  of  life  and 
being,  where  all  men  are  brothers,  where  the  jar- 
ring discords  of  bond  and  free  are  caught  up  into 
the  symphonies  of  love  and  service." 

Now,  just  suppose,  once  again,  that  the  spirit 
of  Paul's  truth  had  been  accepted  by  the  politics  of 
the  world  a  thousand  years  ago.  I  am  aware  that  it 
requires  a  tremendous  stretch  of  the  imagination  to 
suppose  any  such  thing.  The  grim,  ghastly  facts 
of  history  are  so  grimly  and  ghastly  opposed  to  it. 
But  let  us  suppose  that  the  democracy  of  the  King- 
dom of  God,  and  the  democracy  which,  I  believe,  is 
inherent  in  the  nature  of  things,  had  been  adopted 
by  kings,  queens,  kaisers,  emperors,  princes,  states- 
men, and  politicians  away  back  in  the  far-gone 
epochs  of  the  world.  Had  that  been  done,  could 
history  be  what  it  is  ?  A  thousand  times  no !  Could 
all  these  bloody,  brutal,  inhuman  chapters  blind  the 


THE   HIGHER   UNITY  87 

eye  with  their  letters  of  flame  and  deeds  of  shame? 
They  would  have  been  utterly  impossible,  unthink- 
able. Let  me  ask  another  question:  If  the  teaching 
of  Christ,  and  the  politics  of  the  Kingdom  of  God, 
had  even  been  seriously  thought  of  during  the  past 
ten  years — I  mean  seriously  as  opposed  to  the  smug 
hypocrisy,  devilish  motives,  and  fiendish  machina- 
tions which  have  been  harboured  day  and  night — 
would  the  world  be  on  fire, — the  fire  of  military 
incendiarism, — at  this  moment?  No!  This  plane- 
tary holocaust  could  never  have  been.  You  know 
and  I  know — and  what  is  infinitely  more  important, 
God  knows — August,  19 14,  could  never  have 
stained  the  calendar  of  history! 

Two  things,  I  am  sure,  would  have  resulted  in 
the  truth  of  neither  bond  nor  free  being  accepted. 
In  the  first  place,  many  a  king's  head  would  never 
have  been  cut  off.  There  should  have  been  no 
divine-right-bogy  to  begin  with ;  but  if  there  had,  the 
ruler  would  have  been  so  just,  so  wise  that  his  sub- 
jects would  have  loved  him  instead  of  being  forced 
to  send  him  to  the  guillotine.  The  second  result 
would  be  witnessed  in  a  better  quality  of  world- 
citizenship.  Loving  his  own  land,  each  man  would 
be  admiringly  appreciative  of  and  sincerely  grate- 
ful for  the  good  in  every  land.  His  sympathies 
would  not  be  insular,  but  international ;  he  would  be 
not  only  an  American,  a  Russian,  a  Frenchman,  but 
a  cosmopolite;  not  a  spy, — not  a  so-called  super- 
man, ferreting  like  a  rat  in  governmental  cellars, 


88  THE   HIGHER  UNITY 

but  a  man  of  the  open  day,  unweakened  by  brute 
might  and  made  strong  by  heavenly  right. 

We  must  apply  our  principle,  finally,  to  sex. 
There  can  be,  in  the  pro  founder  reaches  of  life  and 
society,  no  male  and  no  female.  Does  that  mean 
that  men  are  going  to  become  pettily  feminine  and 
women  harshly  masculine?  If  so,  then  men  and 
women,  of  all  created  intelligences,  are  most  pitiable. 
The  idea  is  not,  of  course,  obscuration  of  sex,  but 
its  perfect  realization.  One  of  the  terms  which  the 
Master  constantly  applied  to  Himself  was  Son  of 
Man.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  has  no  bearing  what- 
ever upon  the  subject  of  sex;  it  simply  implies  His 
complete  identity  with  humanity.  Nothing  that  is 
worthily  human  can  be  even  slightly  foreign  to  Him. 
He  pulls  out  all  the  stops  in  the  manifold  organ  of 
humanity,  all  the  lyric  strains  of  feminine  tender- 
ness, all  the  trumpet  tones  of  masculine  strength, 
blends  them  into  one  thrilling  harmony  and  sends 
it  love-winged  and  faith-inspired  worship  fully  up 
to  the  heart  of  music's  God.  In  Christ  alone  do  the 
discords  of  sex  melt  into  the  holy  co-operations 
and  fuse  into  the  unearthly  purposes  which  produce 
the  unity  of  a  full-toned  humanity.  A  fact,  verifi- 
able to  any  student  of  history  and  philosophy,  is 
this:  Before  Christ  assumed  the  likeness  of  flesh, 
the  masculine  virtues — courage,  strength,  wisdom, 
truth — were  in  the  ascendency;  but  since  He  came 
to  our  planet  and  went  away  that  He  might  possess 
it  utterly,  the  masculine  virtues  have  had  to  woo 


THE  HIGHER  UNITY  89 

and  win  the  feminine  virtues — those  white  brides 
of  all  truly  great  and  richly  dowered  masculine 
spirits — meekness,  obedience,  gentleness,  purity,  and 
affection.  And  the  man  who  has  not  these,  though 
he  has  the  others  in  full  measure,  is  only  the  con- 
tour of  a  man,  just  a  self-nominated  candidate  for 
manhood,  without  the  slightest  hope  of  election 
unless  he  changes  his  platform. 

Brethren,  these  principles  and  thoughts,  as  old  as 
Christianity  and  as  new  as  truth,  seem  especially 
pertinent  just  now.  Gladstone  declared  that  the 
history  of  nations  is  a  melancholy  chapter;  and  he 
explained  his  declaration  by  adding  that  the  history 
of  governments  is  one  of  the  most  immoral  parts  of 
human  history.  Befnhardi  admits  that  Christianity 
is  just  and  true,  but  impractical  because  it  begets  in 
men  and  nations  a  conflict  and  contradiction  of 
duties.  If  the  aims  of  governments  are  so  grossly 
immoral,  as  Gladstone  said,  then  the  German 
militarist  is  right;  for  Christianity  says  there  must 
be  conflict,  deep,  unflinching,  and  to  the  death, 
between  right  and  wrong.  But  inasmuch  as  govern- 
ments have  tried  everything  else  and  failed,  is  it  not 
worth  while  to  give  the  politics  of  the  Kingdom  of 
God — racial  privileges,  governmental  rights,  the 
completer  co-operations  of  sex — a  real  test?  In 
reply,  many  will  quickly  rise  up  to  illustrate  the 
truth  of  the  late  John  Hay's  aphorism :  "  Nature 
and  politicians  hate  a  vacuum."  On  the  other 
hand,  there  will  be  many  more,  sobered  by  this  un- 


90  THE   HIGHER   UNITY 

speakable  crime  of  murdered  millions  and  plundered 
lands,  believing  in  a  just  God  and  the  rights  of 
weak  peoples  as  well  as  strong,  who  will  first  pray 
John  Hay's  prayer,  and  then  go  forth  to  enact  the 
spirit  of  that  prayer  in  its  bearing  upon  nations  and 
individuals : 

"  Not  in  dumb  resignation  we  lift  our  hands  on  high ; 
Not  like  the  nerveless  fatalist  content  to  do  and  die; 
Our  faith  springs  like  the  eagle,  who  soars  to  meet  the  sun, 
And    cries    exulting    unto    Thee,    *  O    Lord,    Thy    will    be 
done ! ' 

Thy  will — it  bids  the  weak  be  strong,  it  bids  the  strong  be 

just. 
No  lips  to  fawn,  no  hand  to  beg,  no  brow  to  seek  the  dust. 
Whenever  man  oppresses  man  beneath  the  liberal  sun, 
O  Lord,  be  there !    Thine  arm  make  bare !    Thy  righteous 

will  be  done." 


VI 
THE   ONE    TOUCH    MORE 

"  Then  again  he  laid  his  hands  upon  his  eyes." — St.  Mark 
VIII :  25. 

ONE  of  the  advantages  of  the  New  Year  is 
the  psychological  benefit  it  affords  us  in 
freshening  up  our  spiritual  being.  We  are 
reminded  that,  after  all,  our  great  task  is  not  so 
much  to  succeed  in  life  as  to  succeed  in  living. 
Wordsworth  thought  men  lived  by  admiration,  by 
hope,  by  love ;  and  it  is  certain  that  for  lack  of  these 
shining  qualities,  men  inwardly  die.  The  season  is 
propitious,  therefore,  because  it  invites  us  to  retire 
into  our  deeper,  truer  selves  and  consider  the  time- 
less, abiding  values.  One  of  these  values  is  splen- 
didly hinted  in  the  text,  and  it  is  broadly  seen  in  the 
Master's  entire  life  and  ministry.  It  is  that  im- 
measurable value  of  doing  a  little  more  than  is 
actually  required,  of  planning  more  largely  than  is 
in  keeping  with  average  human  nature,  of  speak- 
ing somewhat  more  generously  than  is  customary 
for  tongues  natively  critical.  A  few  Sundays  ago, 
after  conducting  a  vesper  service  in  one  of  Brook- 
lyn's hospitals,  I  was  taken  through  the  wards  by  the 
founder,  that  we  might  say  a  word  to  the  sufferers. 

91 


n  THE  ONE  TOUCH  MORE 

By  each  bed  I  noticed  a  flower,  and  by  way  of  ex- 
planation, my  friend  said :  "  Do  you  see  that  little 
flower?  Well,  it  is  our  custom  here  to  have  a 
flower  by  each  bed  when  the  patient  is  placed  in  it. 
Patients  receive  flowers  from  their  friends,  of 
course,  but  we  do  not  want  a  single  patient  to  wait 
even  a  day  for  a  bit  of  bloom  and  cheer.  And  this," 
he  added,  gently,  "  is  what  we  call  *  the  one  touch 
more.* "  Instantly  I  was  back  in  old  Bethsaida 
looking  at  a  blind  man,  or  else  the  Master  of  Beth- 
saida had  come  gloriously  close  to  my  side !  For  I 
found  myself  repeating:  "Then  again  he  laid  his 
hands  upon  his  eyes." 


Is  not  the  one  touch  more  the  secret  of  Chris- 
tianity? Surely,  the  wonder  of  our  religion  is  in 
its  overflow  of  graciousness,  its  thrill  of  the  un- 
catalogued,  its  utterance  of  the  unlanguaged,  its 
conquest  of  the  added  touch.  Compared  with  all 
other  religions,  Christianity  excels  in  what  it  adds, 
not  in  what  it  takes  away ;  in  what  it  fulfils,  not  in 
what  it  destroys ;  in  what  it  supplies,  not  in  what  it 
suppresses.  To-day  we  frankly  recognize  the  good 
in  other  religions;  we  are  not  unmindful  of  what 
the  world  owes  to  Confucianism,  Brahmanism, 
Buddhism,  Zoroastrianism,  and  other  faiths.  Some 
of  us  can  recall  the  time  when,  if  a  scintilla  of  good 
was    discovered    in    these    venerable    beliefs,    we 


THE  ONE  TOUCH  MORE  98 

thought  a  direct  attack  had  been  made  upon  the 
validity  of  our  own  religion.  Happily,  our  mood  is 
wiser  and  more  Christlike  now.  We  say :  "  Yes ; 
there  is  much  that  is  excellent  in  ethnic  religions. 
God  has  never  left  Himself  without  witness  in  any 
nation.  Religion  is  the  noblest  aspiration  in  the 
heart  of  man;  no  people  have  been  without  a  re- 
ligion; hence  their  prophets  and  teachers.  School- 
masters of  the  race,  they  have  led  their  scholars 
gropingly,  ofttimes  very  crudely  and  imperfectly, 
along  the  dim-lit  paths  opening  into  the  larger  day. 
What  these  faiths  lack,  our  own  supplies ;  their  im- 
perfection but  helps  to  more  fully  reveal  the  com- 
pleteness of  the  Christian's  faith." 

Here,  then,  we  take  our  stand  for  the  divinity  of 
Christ's  revelation:  It  offers  the  one  touch  more. 
In  the  best  sense,  ours  is  not  a  religion  of  exclusion, 
but  of  inclusion.  Other  creeds  may  furnish  the 
first  touch  and  the  second;  Christianity  alone  adds 
the  third  and  final  touch  of  uttermost  salvation. 
Are  you  a  mystic?  Christianity  contains  enough 
mysticism  to  satisfy  a  race  of  mystics.  Are  you  a 
pragmatist?  Christianity  is  so  practical  that,  with 
all  its  mysticism,  there  is  no  hope  whatever  of 
understanding  it  without  practising  it,  doing  it  up 
in  flesh  and  blood  and  sending  it  forth  into  the  roar- 
ing, dusty  streets  of  the  everyday.  Are  you  a 
poet?  Well,  one  angel  undertook  to  tell  those  shep- 
herds of  the  Christ-child.  But  I  suppose  it  was  too 
much  for  him.    Maybe  his  voice  broke,  and  maybe 


94  THE  ONE  TOUCH  MORE 

all  the  strings  an  his  harp  snapped — I  don't  know. 
At  any  rate,  one  angel  was  not  enough  to  sing  the 
Advent  song,  for  ''  suddenly  there  was  with  the 
angel  a  multitude  of  the  heavenly  host  praising 
God  and  saying,  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and 
on  earth  peace,  good  will  toward  men."  But  if 
you  are  neither  a  mystic,  nor  a  pragmatist,  nor  a 
poet,  I  know  you  are  a  sinner.  We  are  all  sinners — 
that  is  the  horrible,  unspeakable  indictment  of  our 
hum.anity.  Yet,  here  again,  is  the  one  touch  more 
of  Christianity:  The  shame  of  being  a  sinner  is  off- 
set by  being  saved  from  sin  in  Christ  Jesus ! 

But  if  this  law  of  the  added  touch  is  embodied  in 
the  Christian  system,  how  wondrously,  how  heart- 
breakingly  is  it  seen  in  the  Master's  personal  rela- 
tions. Witness  the  scene  from  which  the  text  is 
taken.  Here  is  this  blind  man — who  in  that  welter- 
ing mass  of  oriental  humanity  cares  anything  for  a 
blind  man?  I  fear  earth's  answer  would  be  dis- 
appointing; but  Heaven  has  a  big,  sweet,  tender, 
golden  answer.  You  ought  to  dip  your  voice  in 
tears  before  attempting  to  read  it :  "  And  He  took 
hold  of  the  blind  man  by  the  hand."  U  you  can  read 
that  without  a  kind  of  sob,  my  friend,  your  heart 
is  as  hard  as  marble.  Oh,  my  soul,  what  is  this! 
Methinks  angels  are  hiding  behind  their  wings,  the 
silence  of  awe  is  on  their  lips,  as  they  gaze  on  this 
new  world's  wonder.  The  Hand  that  hammered  out 
the  stars  and  set  them  in  their  places  has  clasped 
the  hand  of  a  blind  man !    The  Hand  that  nestles  the 


THE  ONE  TOUCH  MORE  95 

seas  in  its  hollow,  teaching  them  now  to  roar  in  aw- 
ful harmony  and  now  to  sigh  with  infinite  yearn- 
ing— ah,  me!  that  Hand  is  leading  a  sightless  man 
out  of  the  village !  He  who  walks  the  worlds  and 
the  eternities  knows  how  to  keep  step  with  a  poor, 
halting,  eyeless  human !  But  the  wonder  is  not  yet. 
True,  He  took  him  by  the  hand  and  led  him  forth, 
touching  those  dead  eyes.  Already  the  man  can  see 
somewhat — men  as  trees,  walking.  But  that  is  not 
enough  for  the  Master ;  He  must  yet  add  that  touch 
of  tender  grace,  that  fine,  rich,  wordless,  beautiful 
something — sweet  as  a  flower  by  a  sick  man's  bed; 
white  as  mother-love,  stealing  into  the  daughter's 
room  and  kissing  the  fair  sleeping  girl  that  on  the 
morrow  will  be  a  bride ;  artless  as  the  child  coming 
out  of  the  Vast  Unseen  into  our  noises,  and  then 
toddling  back  again  into  the  heavens  with  a  merry 
peal  of  lyric  laughters,  while  we  stand  looking  up, 
thinking  "  unworded  things  and  old."  Or,  take 
the  case  of  the  nameless  woman.  That  day  the 
Master  came  to  the  temple  in  the  early  morning. 
While  He  was  teaching,  heartless  men  drag  this 
soiled  creature  into  His  presence.  Her  crime,  said 
these  men,  must  be  expiated  by  stoning.  ''  But 
Jesus  stooped  down  and  with  His  finger  wrote  on 
the  ground."  Moses  added  a  pile  of  stones  to  such 
as  she;  but  Jesus  added  the  Divine  Forgiveness, 
making  the  sweet  flowers  of  her  girlhood  bloom 
amid  the  desolate  wastes  of  life;  for  her  blasted 
noonday  and  the  dread  oncoming  night,  Jesus  gave 


96  THE  ONE  TOUCH  MORE 

her  back  her  lost  morning,  all  bright  with  dewy 
hopefulness  and  rhythmic  with  music  of  warblers 
whose  songs  were  hushed  long  ago.  Finally,  the 
Master's  one  touch  more — the  unfading  bouquet 
He  set  forever  by  humanity's  sinsick  bedside — is 
seen  on  Calvary.  It  was  not  enough  that  He  car- 
ried His  own  cross ;  not  enough  that  He  spoke  com- 
forting words  to  the  women  of  Jerusalem;  not 
enough  that,  from  His  place  of  pain.  He  gave  His 
mother  into  the  knightly  keeping  of  his  best-loved 
disciple.  No!  This  manifestation  of  Godhead, 
veiled  in  flesh,  demands  one  final  privilege:  He 
makes  a  pillow  of  hope  upon  which  a  social  outcast 
may  rest  his  dying  head !  Even  while  the  sun  puts 
on  sackcloth  and  goes  mourning  down  his  darkened 
circuit,  this  God,  out  of  His  agony  and  blood, 
speaks :  "  Verily  I  say  unto  thee,  Today  shalt  thou 
be  with  me  in  Paradise."  I  know  not  where  Para- 
dise is — whether  in  the  north  of  space,  or  the  south 
of  space,  or  the  east  of  space,  or  the  west  of  space ; 
or  whether  its  fragrant  gardens  may  be  fenced 
within  the  immeasurable  ranges  of  the  soul  itself; 
or  whether  it  is  the  spirit's  final  cleansing  room, 
stainless  and  pure  with  the  unceasing  flow  of  the 
water  of  life,  before  entering  into  the  Many- 
Mansioned  House.  But  this  I  know:  It  will  be 
most  sweet  and  lovely,  even  more  than  mind  can 
think,  or  imagination  can  picture,  or  dreams  can 
dream,  to  look  upon  the  Face  that  was,  marred,  the 
Hand  that  was  pierced,  the  Saviour  who  forgot 


THE  ONE  TOUCH  MORE  97 

Himself,  even  in  death,  that  He  might  add  the  one 
touch  more  to  an  unworthy,  but  penitential,  life. 
It  is  such  a  Lord  as  this  that  makes  John  Donne's 
three-hundred-year-old  prayer-song  as  new  as  the 
breath  of  morning: 

"  Wilt  Thou  forgive  that  sin  where  I  begun, 

Which  was  my  sin,  though  it  were  done  before? 
Wilt  Thou  forgive  that  sin,  through  which  I  run, 
And  do  run  still,  though  still  I  do  deplore? 
When  Thou  hast  done,  Thou  hast  not  done, 
For  I  have  more. 

Wilt  Thou  forgive  that  sin  which  I  have  won 
Others  to  sin,  and  made  my  sin  their  door? 
Wilt  Thou  forgive  that  sin  which  I  did  shun 
A  year  or  two,  but  wallowed  in  a  score? 

When  Thou  hast  done,  Thou  hast  not  done, 
For  I  have  more. 

I  have  a  sin  of  fear,  that  when  I  have  spun 

My  last  thread,  I  shall  perish  on  the  shore; 
But  swear  by  Thyself,  that  at  my  death  Thy  Son 
Shall  shine  as  He  shines  now,  and  heretofore; 
And  having  done  that,  Thou  hast  done, 
I  fear  no  more." 


II 

Does  not  the  one  touch  more  explain  the  vitality 
of  truly  great  institutions?  Think  of  that  com- 
plex institution  called  government.  Broadly  speak- 
ing, there  are  two  theories  of  human  government — 
the  monarchical  and  the  republican.  Between  these 
two  outstanding  and  opposite  ideals  there  are,  of 


98  THE  ONE  TOUCH  MORE 

course,  minor  conceptions ;  but  these  two  have  been 
the  agelong  contestants.  Concerning  the  first,  Bern- 
hardi  says :  ''  In  view  of  the  superiority  of  the 
monarchical  over  the  republican  form  of  govern- 
ment, it  is  our  duty  to  uphold  the  monarchical  idea." 
In  its  aggravated  form,  the  monarchical  theory  says : 
"  The  state  is  everything — a  vast,  soulless  machine, 
in  w^hich  men  are  so  many  cogs.  Therefore,  raise 
men  to  the  highest  power  of  efficiency  that  they  may 
become  the  tools,  not  the  servants,  of  the  state; 
and  the  head  and  soul  of  the  state  is  vested  in  one 
man  through  the  accident  of  primogeniture.  His 
word  is  final;  he  is  a  sacred  person;  the  king  can 
do  no  wrong."  Standing  squarely  opposed  to  this 
theory  is  the  republican — "  government  of  the 
people,  by  the  people,  and  for  the  people."  It  says : 
"  Men  are  servants  of  the  state,  not  its  slaves.  The 
word  of  the  ruler  is  final  only  when  it  is  right ;  he 
may  do  wrong,  and  just  as  surely  as  he  does,  the 
people  will  correct  him ;  his  person  is  sacred  only  if 
clothed  in  robes  of  righteousness,  and  not  because 
some  dead  ancestor  got  hold  of  the  crown,  which 
his  descendants  have  worn  ever  since."  Americans 
uphold  the  republican  form  of  government  because 
they  believe  it  to  be  dynamically  democratic,  and 
not  autocratic;  because  it  retains  the  good  qualities 
of  the  monarchy  and  leaves  out  its  incorrigible  evils. 
But  forgetting,  for  the  moment,  the  superiority  or 
inferiority  of  the  two  systems,  does  not  the  present 
international  murder  forever  doom  and  damn  the 


THE  ONE  TOUCH  MORE  99 

ethics  of  government  which  says :  "  What  is  con- 
fessedly wrong  between  man  and  man,  may  some- 
how be  right  between  nation  and  nation ;  or,  as  the 
chief  exponent  of  militarism  says :  *  Christian 
morality  is  based  on  the  law  of  love.  This  law  can 
claim  no  significance  for  the  relation  of  one  country 
to  another,  since  its  application  would  lead  to  a 
conflict  of  duties."  Is  it  not  such  absurd  thinking 
as  this  that  has  led  to  the  present  inhuman  doing 
among  the  nations?  Evidently,  it  is  time  for  gov- 
ernments to  add  the  one  touch  more.  Having  tried 
everything  else  and  failed,  why  not  give  Christianity 
a  chance?  It  will  lay  its  strong,  tender,  healing 
hands  upon  these  blind  giants  and  lead  them  forth 
from  their  national  villages  into  the  ample  places 
of  international  cosmopolitanism. 

Here,  also,  is  the  secret  of  great  schools.  Behind 
every  true  school  stands  a  true  man,  and  in  that 
man  is  something  finer,  larger,  more  far-reaching 
than  anything  to  be  found  in  the  course  of  study. 
It  is  this  that  distinguishes  Mark  Hopkins  as  one 
of  America's  foremost  educators.  Parents  sent 
their  boys  to  Williams  College  and — Mark  Hopkins. 
The  college  was  the  noble  school's  body,  but  Mark 
Hopkins  was  its  heart  and  soul.  While  other 
teachers  opened  the  boys'  eyes  somewhat,  the  Presi- 
dent did  something  else — he  made  them  open  their 
eyes  in  wonder  and  awe.  When  Arnold's  name  was 
presented  for  the  headmastership  of  Rugby,  it  was 


100         THE  ONE  TOUCH  MORE 

predicted  that,  if  elected,  he  would  transform  the 
face  of  education  throughout  the  public  schools  of 
England.  And  he  did  it.  Some  rtien  are  remem- 
bered for  their  work;  other  men  are  remembered 
for  their  work  and  for  themselves.  Great  as  their 
works  are,  they  are  greater  still. .  And  here  we  come 
upon  the  secret  of  Arnold's  charm.  As  Percival 
says,  he  was  a  prophet  among  schoolmasters,  rather 
than  an  educator  in  the  common  use  of  the  term. 
The  stimulating  streams  of  life  flowing  from  his 
magnetic  personality  produced  a  heavy  crop  of  men 
among  English  hills  and  valleys.  He  had  his  Aris- 
totle, his  Thucydides,  his  Niebuhr  at  his  intellectual 
fingers'-end;  but  he  had,  also,  the  richness  and 
charm  of  godliness  so  focused  in  his  personality  that 
he  emitted  goodness  and  character  as  a  live  coal 
emits  sparks.  Thus  it  is  that  Arnold  and  Rugby 
have  become  synonymns  for  each  other.  But,  to 
come  nearer  home,  what  is  the  memorable  quality 
in  the  teachers  who  most  influenced  you?  Giving 
you  the  elements  of  an  education,  as  it  was  their 
plain,  unvarnished  duty  to  do,  did  they  not  add 
something  else  to  your  Latin,  Greek,  French,  Ger- 
man, and  mathematics  ?  Were  not  their  lives  melo- 
dious with  tones  of  the  everlasting  chime?  In  my 
study  are  the  faces  of  two  men.  They  are  great 
teachers,  supreme  trainers  of  youth  for  college  and 
university.  Their  standard  of  scholarship  is  the 
highest,  but  their  standard  of  character  is  higher 
still.    Boys  passing  through  the  great  Webb  School 


THE  ONE  TOUCH  MORE         101 

carry  into  life  something  that  was  not  in  the  curric- 
ulum, something  that  could  not  be  packed  into  the 
curriculum,  and  vet  something  nobly  formative  and 
predominating  in  their  lives.  Who  that  ever  heard 
them,  can  forget  sayings  such  as  these :  "  Boys,  don't 
do  things  on  the  sly ;  "  or,  "  Boys,  don't  be  jealous; 
for  jealousy  is  a  confession  of  inferiority/'  All 
schools  worthy  of  the  name  are  apostles  of  the  one 
touch  more! 

Moreover,  we  have  here  the  law  that  transfigures 
business.  We  are  altogether  too  familiar  with  the 
pure  dollar  basis  of  business — so  many  hours,  so 
much  pay.  But  men  are  slowly  learning  that  a 
business  concern  of  this  type  cannot  be  a  truly  great 
business  concern.  And  why?  Because  it  lacks  the 
goodwill,  the  mutual  respect,  the  common  interest, 
the  brothering  spirit  that  must  exist  between  em- 
ployers and  employes.  Now,  there  is  no  solution, 
in  Heaven  or  in  earth,  of  the  tremendous  problems 
of  capital  and  labour  save  this  spirit  of  added  gra- 
ciousness.  In  the  last  analysis,  human  nature  will 
respond  to  no  other  treatment,  no  matter  whether 
it  is  human  nature  represented  in  the  capitalist  or 
human  nature  represented  in  the  labourer.  Essen- 
tially, commerce  is  founded  on  a  moral  centre;  to 
ignore  that  centre  is  to  implore  anarchy;  but  to 
operate  from  that  centre  is  to  conduct  business 
greatly  and  to  receive,  at  the  same  time,  the  price- 
less dividends  of  an  enlarged  manhood.  Let  me 
tear,  in  passing,  this  page  out  of  the  book  of  a 


102         THE  ONE  TOUCH  MORE 

human  life.  My  friend  has  a  splendid  business;  he 
is  a  large  employer  of  men.  He  knows  his  men — 
not  simply  in  the  mass,  but  individually,  man  by 
man.  One  morning  an  employe  was  missed  from 
his  accustomed  place.  "  Where  is  Charles  today?  " 
the  head  of  the  firm  asked.  On  being  told  that 
Charles  was  seriously  ill,  he  at  once  made  arrange- 
ments for  him  to  have  medical  care,  a  trained  nurse, 
and  everything  that  would  minister  to  his  comfort. 
"  Splendid!  "  you  say,  "  and  just  as  it  ought  to  be." 
But  hold  on,  my  friend,  that  is  only  the  beginning, 
not  the  ending,  of  this  epic  in  business :  As  long  as 
Charles  was  ill,  this  princely  man  went,  week  in  and 
out,  to  visit  him  in  person.  He  did  not  ring  that 
humble  door-bell  by  proxy ;  he  rang  it  with  his  own 
hand.  Oh,  yes,  he  touched  him  once — he  gave  him 
employment ;  oh,  yes,  he  touched  him  twice — ^he  sent 
a  doctor  and  a  nurse  to  take  care  of  him;  but  oh, 
yes,  he  touched  him  a  third  time — he  went  himself 
and  sat  by  his  bed  and  held  his  hand  and  smoothed 
his  brow !  "  Inasmuch  " — but  let  men  and  angels 
hear  the  rest  in  the  Day  of  Days ! 


Ill 

Finally,  this  law  of  the  one  touch  more  contains 
the  ultimate  fineness  of  the  soul.  '*  Everything 
good,"  said  Plato,  "  we  can  educe  from  beautiful 
souls  by  trust  and  frankness."  And  to  grow  beauti- 
ful souls  is  the  mission  of  these  checkered  human 


THE  ONE  TOUCH  MORE         103 

years,  the  unfolding  of  that  wondrous  history  which 
Leibnitz  defined  as  the  romance  of  humanity.  No- 
where, it  seems  to  me,  is  Christ's  Lordship  more 
manifest  than  in  this:  His  Spirit,  in  men  and 
women,  urges  them  to  such  altruistic  planning,  such 
noble  thinking,  such  generous  doing  that  they  are 
not  content  with  anything  short  of  the  added  touch. 
They  breast  the  silver  seas  of  goodness  as  gulls 
breast  the  crystal  waters  of  New  York  Bay;  and 
just  as  the  bay  proclaims  the  overflowing  abundance 
of  the  sea,  so  do  mightily  tender  souls  proclaim 
their  contact  with  the  infinite  oceans  of  grace  flow- 
ing out  from  the  Christ's  unfathomed  heart.  Re- 
calling this  spirit  and  faith  in  the  first  disciples, 
Martineau  says :  *'  Within  the  infinitude  of  the 
divine  mercy  trouble  did  but  fold  them  closer;  the 
perversity  of  man  did  but  provide  them  to  put  forth 
a  more  conquering  love ;  and  though  none  Vv^ere  ever 
more  the  sport  of  the  selfish  interests  and  prejudices 
of  mankind,  or  came  into  contact  with  a  more 
desolate  portion  of  the  great  wastes  of  humanity, 
they  constructed  no  melancholy  theories;  but  hav- 
ing planted  many  a  rose  of  Sharon,  and  made  their 
little  portion  of  the  desert  smile,  departed  in  the 
faith  that  the  green  margin  would  spread  as  the 
seasons  of  God  came  round,  till  the  mantle  of  heaven 
covered  the  earth,  and  it  ended  with  Eden,  as  it  had 
begun."  And  what  this  great  philosopher  says  of 
the  first  disciples,  may  be  said  of  all  true  disciples 
everywhere  and  all  the  time.    "  Do  what  you  will," 


104.         THE  ONE  TOUCH  MORE 

said  Robert  Elsmere,  '*  you  cannot  escape  Jesus  of 
Nazareth.  His  life  and  death  underlie  our  institu- 
tions as  the  alphabet  underlies  our  literature."  It 
is  grandly  true;  and  especially  do  Christ's  life  and 
death  underlie  magnanimous  souls.  Brooke  Foss 
Westcott  was  one  of  the  great  scholars  of  his  time. 
But  it  was  the  one  touch  more,  his  disinterested 
public  services  on  behalf  of  rich  and  poor,  which 
won  for  him  the  title :  ''  Everybody's  Bishop."  Yet 
I  like  to  set  over  against  such  a  conspicuously  great 
afid  good  life — not  for  invidious  comparison  so 
much  as  for  spiritual  variety — this  humble  woman 
whom  I  never  saw,  and  yet  to  whose  regal  good- 
ness I  owe  one  of  the  abiding  inspirations  of  life. 
She  is  a  household  servant;  she  lives  beyond  the 
seas ;  she  is  a  Christian — that  is  her  everlasting  dis- 
tinction. On  stated  evenings  it  is  her  duty  to  remain 
in  the  home,  and  her  pastor  learned  that  she  spends 
those  evenings  in  a  most  original  way.  **  You  know 
I  cannot  do  much,"  she  said.  "  But  I  long  to  do 
something  toward  healing  the  sin  and  sorrow  of  the 
world.  So,  on  the  evenings  when  I  cannot  go  out, 
I  take  the  daily  paper  to  my  room.  Then  I  cut  out 
the  obituary  notices  and  pray  for  those  who  sorrow 
for  their  dead."  Ah!  whenever  you  see  a  piece 
of  crepe  during  this  New  Year,  whenever  you  see  a 
hearse,  just  remember  this  unknown  woman's  ex- 
ample, and  you  may  be  the  means  of  drying  many 
tears  by  causing  God's  golden  winds  to  blow  softly 
down  from  His  Hills  of  Healing. 


THE  ONE  TOUCH  MORE         105 

no  introduction.    All  it  seeks  is  \ 
its  heart,  utter  its  word,  give  its\ 
love.    And  to  say  that  this  text  is  t\ 
I  saying  the  sun  is  hot,  the  wind  is\ 
is  dark,  the  day  is  bright.     We  sim\ 
ts  words  until  we  cut  into  its  spirit,  an 
vo-edged  sword  of  its  power  to  clea\ 
jial  joints  and  marrows  in  twain.    The  \ 
dng  of  religion  as  life.    What  are  sonie\ 
:les?    And  what  is  its  everlastingly  enri\ 
?     Why  will  man  carry  a  tombstone  \ 
ly  wear  wings?    Why  will  he  feed  upon! 
shes  when  he  may  have  the  food  used  all 
banquetings?     These  are  some  of  the  q 
for  our  consideration. 


/Elsmere,  ''  you  cannot  escape  Jes\ 

/His  life  and  death  underlie  our  in* 

/e  alphabet  underlies  our  literature." 

true;  and  especially  do  Christ's  life 

^erlie  magnanimous  souls.     Brooke  ] 

/was  one  of  the  great  scholars  of  his  t 

A^as  the  one  touch  more,  his  disintere 

"^^/ervices  on  behalf  of  rich  and  poor,  wn  them 

^'  ^"^  him  the  title :  "  Everybody's  Bishop/'   '^jj^'f,'' 
of  me  .  ,  •  1       life'  — 

St.  j/o  set  over  agamst  such  a  conspicuously  g 

'ood  life — not   for  invidious  comparisor 

1'as  for  spiritual  variety — this  humble  woxt  like 
I  I  never  saw,  and  yet  to  whose  regal  g.  The 
[  owe  one  of  the  abiding  inspirations  of  Who 
woiis  a  household  servant;  she  lives  beyonden  the 
da3J  she  is  a  Christian — that  is  her  everlastingith  all 
its  bn.  On  stated  evenings  it  is  her  duty  to  red  say : 
"  Lb  home,  and  her  pastor  learned  that  she  spnt  the 
orator  of  this  occasion — the  eloquent,  knowledge- 
showing  Night?"  Surely,  the  just  and  hol}^  night 
would  swallow  him  alive!  When  did  June  ever 
say :  "  Please  introduce  me  to  the  good  green 
earth?"  Why,  June  and  the  sky-pregnant  sod 
seem  to  have  known  each  other  always,  from  their 
far-off,  antique  childhood.  Does  the  Atlantic,  ever 
old  and  ever  young,  need  an  introduction?  The 
ocean  prefers  to  be  enjoyed — to  be  a  path  for  the 
ships  that  leave  no  tracks ;  to  be  a  liquid  face  for  the 
sun  to  kiss;  to  be  a  watery  street  up  and^down  which 
the  nations  come  and  go.    No;  the  truly  great  re- 

106 


RELIGION  AS  LIFE  107 

quires  no  introduction.  All  it  seeks  is  a  chance  to 
reveal  its  heart,  utter  its  word,  give  its  life,  yield 
up  its  love.  And  to  say  that  this  text  is  truly  great 
is  like  saying  the  sun  is  hot,  the  wind  is  cold,  the 
night  is  dark,  the  day  is  bright.  We  simply  play 
with  its  words  until  we  cut  into  its  spirit,  and  allow 
the  two-edged  sword  of  its  power  to  cleave  our 
spiritual  joints  and  marrows  in  twain.  The  Master 
is  talking  of  religion  as  life.  What  are  some  of  its 
obstacles?  And  what  is  its  everlastingly  enriching 
secret?  Why  will  man  carry  a  tombstone  when 
he  may  wear  wings?  Why  will  he  feed  upon  dust 
and  ashes  when  he  may  have  the  food  used  at  an- 
gelic banquetings?  These  are  some  of  the  ques- 
tions for  our  consideration. 


One  of  the  hindrances  to  a  larger  realization  of 
the  Christian  life  is:  An  improper  use  of  the  Scrip- 
tures. "  Ye  search  the  scriptures,"  said  the  Master, 
"  because  ye  think  that  in  them  ye  have  eternal  life ; 
and  these  are  they  which  bear  witness  of  me." 
Evidently,  Christ  discerned  a  serious  mistake  some- 
where. Is  the  fault,  then,  with  the  Scriptures,  and 
does  Jesus  so  imply?  By  no  means.  None  had  so 
lofty  an  insight  into  the  divine  library  as  the  Mas- 
ter. What  grandeur,  what  pity,  what  pathos,  what 
tragedy,  what  history,  what  prophecy,  what  psal- 
mody, what  agony  of  despair,  what  symphony  of 


108  RELIGION  AS  LIFE 

hope,  what  deep-down  inspirations  and  high-up  trail- 
ing glories  He  beheld  therein!  The  Master  knew 
that  the  Scriptures  were  instinct  with  divine  love; 
that  the  God  who  wrote  His  omnipotence  in  star- 
letters  upon  the  scrolls  of  space,  wrote  His  heart 
in  moving  compassion  upon  these  pages  of  inspira- 
tion. The  Scriptures  are  humanity's  sob  of  defeat 
over  sin;  they  are  also  humanity's  assured  triumph 
in  the  God  of  marvelous  deliverances.  They  assert 
that  while  man  bears  in  his  heart  the  poison  of  the 
serpent's  fang,  he  is  yet  in  league  with  that  "  bright 
mastership  "  of  divinity  which  brings  him  off  more 
than  conqueror.  A  daisy  is  the  sun's  writing  in 
shorthand;  a  field  of  whispering  corn  is  the  sun's 
writing  in  longhand;  but  both  the  daisy  and  the 
cornfield  are  the  signatures  of  the  same  sun.  But 
whose  is  the  signature  of  the  sun?  When  there 
was  no  star,  no  sun,  no  day,  no  night,  **  in  the 
beginning  God  created  the  heavens  and  the  earth." 
And  with  the  advent  of  humanity,  God  began  to 
signal  to  man,  to  woo  his  vision  from  the  clods  to 
the  Creator  of  the  worlds,  to  the  Father  of  spirits. 
As  lawgiver,  ruler,  prophet,  teacher,  or  singer  came 
by  turns  down  the  highways  of  history — each  tell- 
ing his  dream,  each  articulating  his  hope,  each  voic- 
ing his  experience,  each  expressing  his  faith — there 
came  into  existence  these  writings  known  as  the 
Hebrew  Scriptures.  They  need  no  apology,  no  de- 
fence. Their  permanence  is  in  the  fact  that  they 
were  written  by  God-intoxicated  men.     Their  se- 


RELIGION  AS  LIFE  109 

curity,  as  well  as  their  sublimity,  is  in  the  keeping 
of  their  Author.  The  wind  of  God's  breath  blows 
through  them.  Their  title  deed  to  inspiration  is 
their  power  to  inspire.  These  old  Scriptures,  bright 
with  the  morning  glow  of  eternity,  are  the  best  that 
God  could  do,  with  flesh  and  blood  for  His  instru- 
ments. 

How,  then,  had  scribes  and  Pharisees  misused 
them?  Just  as  many  a  man  has  since  done — by  a 
downright  wooden,  mechanical,  unspiritual  inter- 
pretation of  them.  "  Ye  search  the  scriptures,  be- 
cause ye  think  that  in  them  ye  have  eternal  life." 
What  right  had  they  to  think  that  eternal  life  is 
in  the  Scriptures?  Eternal  life  is  in  the  Christ  of 
God,  and  nowhere  else.  Before  the  Scriptures  were, 
God  was ;  before  the  New  Testament  was  written  in 
words  the  Saviour  of  the  world  wrote  out  His 
salvation  in  letters  of  blood  and  deeds  of  love.  The 
Scriptures  are  the  guideposts  to  life;  the  Scrip- 
tures are  the  road ;  they  say :  "  Behold  Him,  the 
Giver,  the  Imparter  of  Life  Eternal.  We  are  the 
symbols;  He  is  the  reality.  Break  through  the 
shell  of  our  words  and  feed  upon  His  very  Self, 
His  own  nourishing  breasts  of  goodness  and 
beauty."  Travelling  in  the  country,  you  come  to  a 
point  where  several  roads  intersect.  You  wish  to 
reach  the  city  yonder  in  the  distance.  But  you  do 
not  know  which  road  to  take.  Just  then  you  see  a 
man  who  knows,  and  you  ask :  *'  Which  road  leads 
into  the  city?"     He  replies:  "That  one."     But  as 


110  RELIGION  AS  LIFE 

you  journey  along  the  right  road,  you  do  not  once 
say :  "  This  road  and  the  city  yonder  are  one  and 
the  same."  No!  The  road  is  the  means;  the  city 
is  the  end.  You  might  stop  on  the  road  until  dooms- 
day and  never  reach  the  city.  Just  so,  says  our 
Lord,  are  the  Scriptures.  They  are  the  path,  the 
guideposts,  the  witness  to  Me.  But  the  Pharisees 
sat  down  in  the  road,  killed  off  all  the  spiritu^ 
greenness  on  either  side,  and  never  got  within  sight 
of  the  glittering  spires  of  the  City  of  Reality.  "  And 
ye  will  not  come  to  me,  that  ye  may  have  life."  Is 
not  that  a  misuse  of  the  Scriptures  indeed?  And 
any  man  who  reads  his  Bible,  without  going  be- 
yond the  written  words  to  the  Saviour  of  whom 
they  tell,  is  simply  a  Pharisee  living  two  thousand 
years  later  than  his  religious  ancestors  in  old 
Jerusalem.  Study  your  Bible;  make  it  the  man  of 
your  council;  commit  it  to  memory;  teach  it  to 
others;  feed  upon  it  morning,  noon,  and  night.  But 
always  remember,  because  very  good  people  some- 
times forget  it,  that  the  supreme  purpose  of  the 
Bible  is  to  bring  you  into  first-hand,  heart-to-heart, 
spirit-to-spirit  communion  and  fellowship  with  God. 
Thus  you  may  enjoy  unbroken  inflows  of  fresh 
new  wonder,  while  eternity's  ancient  fire  burns  clean 
and  deep  in  your  heart. 

A  further  obstacle  to  religion  as  life  is  the  quest 
after  false  Messiahs.  *'  I  am  come  in  my  Father's 
name,  and  ye  receive  me  not;  if  another  shall  come 
in  his  own  name,  him  will  ye  receive."     Man's 


RELIGION  AS  LIFE  111 

capacity  for  choosing  the  inferior  is  immense. 
Scholars  tell  us  that,  first  and  last,  the  Jews  have  ^ 
gone  after  some  sixty  odd  Messiahs.  Is  there  a  1 
more  pathetic  sight  in  all  history?  Perhaps  not; 
but  its  nearest  counterpart  is  the  wild  chase  after 
false  teachers.  Yet  this  is  not  peculiar  to  our  own 
age;  it  is  germane  to  human  nature,  which  has  an 
agelessness  altogether  its  own.  What  is  the  cause 
of  this  game  of  semi-spiritual-hide-and  seek  ?  Un- 
derlying it  all,  of  course,  is  the  truth  that  man  is 
incurably  religious.  Mortals  must  worship  some- 
thing. Then,  woven  in  with  this  ineradicable  re- 
ligious streak,  is  a  fatal  genius  for  the  second  best. 
In  morals,  as  nowhere  else,  are  men  so  prone  to 
seek  the  line  of  least  resistance.  Thus  the  religious 
quack  finds  his  market  steady  and  high;  his  soil 
is  ever  ready  for  the  sowing.  The  patentees  of  a 
new  religion  are  assured  of  a  brief,  bubble-bursting 
success.  They  recall  Northcote's  story  of  the  violin 
teacher  of  George  III.  The  master  told  his 
majesty  that  violinists  fall  into  one  of  three  classes : 
first,  those  who  cannot  play  at  all;  second,  those 
who  play  very  badly;  third,  those  who  play  very 
well.  "  It  is  my  privilege,"  he  added,  "  to  assure  his 
majesty  that  he  belongs  to  the  second  class.'* 
Whereat  the  king  turned  purple  with  pride.  It  is 
to  this  "  second  class  "  of  religious  fiddlers  that  the 
devotees  of  the  modern  cults  belong.  But  where  do 
the  masters  and  mistresses  thereof  come  in?  That 
is  another  matter.     Its  gravity  must  not  be  over- 


112  RELIGION  AS  LIFE 

looked  because  its  crime  is  heinous.  They  are  the 
sheep  in  wolf's  clothing;  they  are  the  leaders,  as 
Professor  Miinsterburg  says,  of  the  *'  religious 
underworld ;  "  they  are  the  "  hirelings  "  that  traffic 
in  souls;  they  are  the  priests  and  priestesses  who 
verify  the  truth  of  De  Foe's  rhyme : 

"  Wherever  God  erects  a  house  of  prayer, 
The  devil  always  builds  a  chapel  there; 
And  'twill  be  found  upon  examination 
The  latter  has  the  largest  congregation." 

Another  obstacle  to  religion  as  life  is  social  and 
individual  self-glorification.  "  How  can  ye  believe, 
who  receive  glory  one  of  another,  and  the  glory 
that  Cometh  from  the  only  God  ye  seek  not?"  It 
was  a  poignant  question  for  these  children  of  Abra- 
ham. Elected  to  fulfil  the  mightiest  task  of  any 
race,  they  had  degenerated  into  religious  automa- 
tons. Their  privileges  had  stiffened  into  pride ;  and 
pride  is  a  knife  that  cuts  the  moral  throat  while  it 
jabs  out  the  spiritual  eyes.  Consequently,  these 
gaunt  old  Pharisees,  wrapped  in  their  moth-eaten 
mantles  of  self-pride,  were  bleeding  to  death  in 
their  blindness,  and  they  knew  not  that  they  were 
religiously  bloodless  and  sightless.  The  nation  that 
worships  itself — its  ancestry,  its  attainments, 
whether  religious,  artistic,  or  scientific,  or  its 
material  things,  however  worth  ful  and  essential  to 
social  progress — that  nation  has  already  prepared 
for  its  obsequies,  and  is  simply  marking  time  while 


RELIGION  AS  LIFE  113 

the  national  undertaker  arrives.  But  society  is  com- 
posed of  individuals.  Single  persons  are  the  stuff 
of  which  the  social  garment  is  woven ;  and  the  whole 
cloth  can  be  no  better  than  its  inwrought  stitches. 
Therefore,  the  vanity  of  the  individual  is  treason 
to  the  brotherhood.  How  can  a  man  believe  in  the 
only  God  when  he  worships  himself?  As  mere 
pulpit  cleverness  is  disastrous  to  the  preacher's 
unction,  so  self-idolatry  is  destructive  of  the  lay- 
man's reality.  It  is  this  personal  tawdriness,  this 
self-glorying  that  is  inimical  to  spiritual  suscepti- 
bility. Going  up  Fifth  Avenue  the  other  day,  I  saw 
a  man  at  whom  some  laughed  and  others  wept. 
He  was  looking  at  himself  every  step  he  took. 
Was  he  not  a  fine  specimen  of  physical  manhood? 
Was  he  not  handsome,  richly  dressed,  graceful 
of  movement?  Indeed  he  was!  But,  ah  me! 
He  could  not  keep  his  eyes  off  himself.  He  car- 
ried no  tangible  looking-glass,  yet  he  was 
hung  with  invisible  mirrors.  And  his  vain,  steady 
gaze  at  himself,  translated  into  our  vernacular, 
said:  "I  really  wonder  if  the  universe,  if  the 
planet  named  earth,  and  that  insignificant  part  of 
it  called  New  York,  is  up-to-date  enough  to  be  aware 
of  my  presence?  "  He  could  not  see  anything,  hear 
anything,  think  anything,  imagine  anything  apart 
from  his  own  empty-headed,  shallow-hearted  self- 
consciousness.  Is  it  not  unspeakably  pathetic? 
Until  one  shifts  his  imperfect  personality  over  into 
the  glowing  centres  of  the  personal  heart  of  that 


114  RELIGION  AS  LIFE 

paternal  *'  Other  "  bearing  witness  to  the  Christ,  he 
plods  the  dusty,  shrunken  ways  of  life,  the  shriveled 
victim  of  unspiritual  drought,  with  no  hope  of  sweet 
celestial  rains  turning  the  parched  lands  of  his  soul 
into  flowering  gardens  of  wondrous  bloom. 

But  the  greatest  obstacle  to  religion  as  life  is 
yet  to  be  mentioned.  It  is  an  unholy  will.  *'  Ye  will 
not."  Religiously  speaking,  ignorance  slays  its 
thousands,  prejudice  its  tens  of  thousands,  while 
desperately  wicked,  wilful  wrong-headedness  slays 
its  millions.  The  most  awe-inspiring  thing  in  the 
universe,  next  to  God,  is  the  human  will.  God  calls 
the  stars,  and  they  answer  from  all  the  shining  fields 
of  space :  "  Here  we  are."  God  calls  the  atoms,  and 
because  each  atom  knows  its  place  and  seeks  it, 
all  the  atomic  galaxies  reply :  **  We  have  heard  thy 
Voice,  O  God,  and  are  coming  to  Thee."  God  calls 
the  seas,  and  they  respond  in  plangent,  plunging 
tones :  **  Thy  waves  and  thy  billows  are  all  leaping 
to  nestle  in  the  hollow  of  Thy  hand."  God  calls  the 
mountains,  and  they  climb  skyward  in  obedience 
to  the  inner  urge  of  the  Voice  that  spake  them  into 
being.  God  calls  trees,  flowers,  animals,  and  all 
march  in  a  procession  of  beauty  and  a  mystery  of 
life,  saying:  "Thou  art  our  Creator,  and  we,  in 
unison  with  dragons  and  all  deeps,  with  fire  and  hail 
and  snow  and  stormy  wind,  delight  in  fulfilling  thy 
word."  But  God  calls  you — an  immortal  being,  a 
deathless  soul,  a  creature  quivering  with  the  image 
of   Godhead,   a  clod   thrilling  with   immeasurable 


RELIGION  AS  LIFE  115 

might,  a  shadow  flying  on  invisible  wings,  a  hand- 
breadth  spanning  time  and  eternity,  a  fascinating 
tale  that  can  never,  never  be  told,  a  casket  of  divinity 
self -plunged  into  a  sty  of  iniquity — and  you  answer 
that  God  who  is  calling  you,  calling  in  mercy,  call- 
ing in  judgment,  calling  by  night,  calling  by  day: 
"I  will  not."  Is  it  not  enough  to  appall  even  the 
Almighty?  In  this  sense,  at  least,  you  are  the 
creator  of  your  own  destiny.  Your  will  is  the  door 
through  which  God  enters  your  house  of  life.  Have 
you  shut  the  door — bolted  it,  barred  it,  locked  it 
fast  ?  Open  it  now !  You,  and  you  only,  know  the 
combination  to  that  safe  in  which  the  jewels  of 
your  soul  are  kept.  God  is  hungry  for  you.  O, 
feed  Him  the  food  of  obedience !  God  is  thirsty  for 
you.  O,  give  Him  to  drink  of  the  waters  of  thy 
spirit!  God  is  longing  for  you!  O,  run  home  to 
His  heart!  For  "there  are  but  two  things  in  the 
universe,"  said  John  Henry  Newman,  "  your  own 
soul  and  God  who  made  it."  There  is  in  God  "  a 
deep,  but  dazzling  darkness," 'which  will  turn  your 
spiritual  night  into  eternal  day. 


II 

Turning  now  from  all  obstacles,  what  is  the  secret 
of  religion  as  life?  What  is  the  creative  power  that 
makes  for  spiritual  vastness  on  the  human  side? 
How  is  one  to  leave  negative  restraints  for  positive, 
dynamic  assistance  unto  religious  vitality?     There 


116  RELIGION  AS  LIFE 

must  be  unquestionable  certainty  here,  or  else  life 
itself  is  a  huge  joke,  a  taunting  jest.  Indeed,  is  it 
credible  that  such  minute  provision  has  been  made 
for  constellations  and  molecules,  for  winds  and  seas, 
for  things  that  creep  and  things  that  fly,  for  all  of 
man's  bodily  appetites  and  necessities,  and  yet,  in 
the  highest  concern  of  all — the  satisfaction  of  the 
soul's  hungers  and  thirsts — there  is  no  clear-aired 
certainty,  no  steady  solar  light  beating  upon  the 
path  that  winds  ever  to  the  perfect  day?  Such  a 
thing  is  utterly  unthinkable  to  right-thinking  men. 
Wrong-thinking  men  say  otherwise;  but  their  own 
hopeless  croaking,  as  well  as  their  dry-as-dust  ex- 
istence, is  the  unanswerable  argument  that  their 
thinking  is  wrong  and  their  words  foolish  and 
empty.  We  know  in  part,  but  we  know.  This  is 
the  assurance  whose  goldenness  gathers  increas- 
ing refulgence  to  all  brave-hearted  Christian  pil- 
grims. Does  the  surgeon  need  to  draw  all  the  blood 
in  your  body  to  know  what  your  blood  is  ?  A  few 
ruddy  drops  are  enough.  Does  the  physicist 
journey  all  the  way  to  the  sun  to  find  out  what  its 
elements  are?  He  prefers  to  stay  at  home  and  ques- 
tion the  light  of  a  parlor  match.  The  match-head  is 
the  prophet  of  the  sun.  This  tiny  flame  which  his 
baby's  breath  may  quench  tells  the  man  who  can 
hear  what  the  light  in  the  million-miled  sun  is. 
The  surgeon  knows  in  part,  but  he  knows ;  the 
astronomer  knows  in  part,  but  he  knows ;  the  Chris- 
tian knows  in  part,  also,  but  he  knows — knows  as 


RELIGION  AS  LIFE  117 

the  materialist,  the  muck-raker,  cannot  possibly 
know.  His  knowledge  is  even  more  valid  than  is 
the  expert's  knowledge  of  physical  things,  because 
he  knows  ''  the  God  of  things  as  they  are,"  the  God 
of  souls  as  they  are,  and  the  God  of  souls  as  they 
are  going  to  be.  How  does  one  come  into  this 
knowledge?  What  part  does  a  man  play?  What 
is  the  Christian's  reveahng  secret? 

The  first  step  is  a  willing  will.  Drop  out  that 
brazen,  life-sapping  negative  in  the  Master's  state- 
ment, and  what  have  you?  Nothing  less  than  one 
of  the  overwhelming  spiritual  facts.  "  Ye  will 
come  to  me !  "  That  instant  a  man  begins  to  live 
in  a  new  universe.  The  power  that  says  no,  the 
will  that  stubbornly  shuts  itself  out  from  reality,  is 
the  very  same  that  lets  itself  in  to  joy  and  peace 
and  power.  There  is  no  quarrel  between  God's  sov- 
ereignty and  man's  freedom.  They  are  two  halves 
of  one  spiritual  whole.  Religion  is  the  interaction 
of  your  will  with  the  will  of  God,  the  interplay 
of  your  own  soul  with  the  Soul  of  the  Universe, 
the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
When  a  man  says  "  I  will  "  to  God  all  Heaven 
thrills  with  gladness.  The  New  Testament  reveals 
a  creative  power  in  the  human  will  which  neither 
psychology  nor  philosophy  nor  science  can  explore 
or  explain.  Its  responsibility  is  too  heavy,  its  mys- 
tery is  too  profound,  its  issues  are  too  far-reaching 
for  adequate  measurement.  Will  is  the  dreadful 
price  we   have   to   pay    for   being  human.      In  a 


118  RELIGION  AS  LIFE 

popular  book  entitled,  "  The  Miracles  of  Science," 
the  author  discusses  the  origin  of  the  world,  chart- 
ing the  universe,  weighing  the  planets,  exploring 
the  atom,  juggling  with  life,  the  creation  of  species, 
mastering  the  microbe,  banishing  the  plagues,  the 
conquest  of  time  and  space,  and  other  important 
subjects.  But  where  is  the  man  who  can  write  a 
satisfactory  account  of  "  The  Miracles  of  the  Hu- 
man Will  "  ?  To  be  sure,  in  the  book  referred  to 
there  are  some  slight  illustrations  of  its  power  and 
achievement.  But  these  are  only  parts  of  the  ways 
of  the  will;  the  full  thunder  of  its  power  who  can 
understand  ?  No  mortal  surely.  Yet  the  man  pos- 
sessing the  deepest  vision  of  the  will's  stupendous 
power  is  the  man  who  has  direct,  self-chosen  deal- 
ings with  its  Creator.  The  only  truly  original  soul 
is  the  soul  that  lives  in  the  living  God.  There  are 
brilliant  minds  that  dance  with  atoms  and  stars, 
but  they  feed  only  upon  the  mechanical  energy  that 
whirls  the  little  and  the  large  through  space.  There 
are  other  minds  that  weigh  these  same  lumps  of 
matter,  find  them  wanting  in  spiritual  nutrition, 
cleave  a  pathway  through  their  monstrous  mass, 
and  walk  quietly  in  behind  them  to  feed  upon  the 
Bosom  that  feeds  angels  and  men.  "  Worship  is 
the  source  of  all  originality,"  says  Professor  Cabot, 
"  because  it  sends  us  to  our  origin."  This  is  sim- 
ply the  twentieth  century  putting  of  the  all-century 
truth :  **  If  any  man  willeth  to  do  "his  will,  he 
shall  know  of  the  teaching,  whether  it  is  of  God, 


RELIGION  AS  LIFE  119 

or  whether  I  speak  from  myself."  "  He  shall 
know  " — he  shall  neither  quibble,  nor  guess,  nor 
whine.  He  shall  know,  and  walk  the  big  eternal 
ways  with  immortal  lures  calling  him  ever  on.  He 
shall  know,  and  smile  with  April's  silver  rain  and 
weep  with  October's  golden  ruin.  He  shall  know, 
and  the  little  jingling  noises  will  patter  beneath  his 
feet  while  the  large  enchanting  whispers  murmur 
in  his  heart.  He  shall  know,  and  his  good  right  hand 
of  brotherhood  will  take  unto  itself  an  enlarging 
clasp.  He  shall  know,  and  keep  his  vision  clear 
without  speck  and  his  *'  inner  eye  unblind."  He 
shall  know,  and  breast  the  fires  of  pain  only  to  find 
rarer  lustres  when  the  flames  have  all  died  out.  He 
shall  know,  and  grow  younger  as  he  grows  older, 
stronger  as  he  becomes  weaker,  richer  as  he  be- 
comes poorer.  He  shall  know,  and  the  seeming 
ways  of  death  shall  become  the  gleaming  ways  of 
life  and  light.  He  shall  know,  and  on  the  fragrant 
side  of  the  valley  of  shadows  he  shall  hear  the 
tender  lutany  of  harpers  eternally  young  sending 
back  to  him  his  own  pilgrim  chant :  "  I  said,  I  will 
water  my  best  garden,  and  will  water  abundantly 
my  garden  bed;  and  lo,  my  brook  became  a  river, 
and  my  river  became  a  sea." 

Yes;  God  hangs  the  earth  upon  nothing,  but  he 
hangs  destinies  upon  that  invisible  hinge  named  the 
human  will.  Deity  can  manage  His  worlds,  but  He 
asks  your  consent  to  help  you  manage  your  life. 
And  the  life  you  are  morally  and  deathlessly  re- 


IW  RELIGION  AS  LIFE 

sponsible  for  are  the  acts  of  your  own  will.  Verily, 
the  universe  is  a  rubbish  heap  compared  with  a 
mortal  immortal's  volitional  powers.  A  creative 
music  goes  singing  along  all  the  paths  of  space 
when  one  says :  ''  I  will  arise  and  go  now  to  my 
Father's  house.  Lo,  I  come :  in  the  volume  of  the 
book  it  is  written  of  me,  I  delight  to  do  thy  will, 
O  my  God :  yea,  thy  law  is  within  my  heart."  Here 
is  the  wonder  on  the  other  side  of  which  wonder 
there  is  none.  It  was  enough  to  fill  Kant  with  awe; 
and  it  is  enough,  also,  to  fulfil  all  law,  human  and 
divine.  ''  So  act,"  said  the  German,  "  as  if  the 
maxim  of  thy  action  were  by  thy  will  to  become 
a  universal  law."  Great  words  and  glorious!  "  So 
act,"  said  the  Master  of  men,  '*  that  thou  mayest 
know  that  thy  action  is  at  one  with  the  will  of  my 
Father;  and  when  you  stand  in  His  presence  from 
whom  the  earth  and  the  seas  have  fled  away  and 
galaxies  have  become  blackened  cinders,  you  shall 
hear  the  well-done  of  all  well-doing  souls." 

A  willing  will!  It  is  the  climax  of  human  gran- 
deur! And  why?  Because  a  willing  will  is  the 
only  way  to  discover  the  living  Christ.  **  Ye  will 
come  to  Me !  "  Our  Lord  drives  us  into  close  quar- 
ters that  He  may  carve  out  a  generous  space  for  us 
to  live  and  move  in.  Come  to  what?  The  Scrip- 
tures? The  Church?  The  Pope,  the  Priest,  the 
Preacher?  The  last  new  book?  Ah,  fondest, 
blindest,  weakest — a  thousand  times  no!  '*  You — 
come — through — these — to — ME !  "       Many     are 


RELIGION  AS  LIFE  121 

spiritually  lean  because  they  have  never  reached  the 
other  and  living  side  of  the  venerable  and  noble 
Christian  symbols.  The  means  of  grace  are  very, 
very  good,  and  most  essential,  but  grace  is  infin- 
itely better  than  its  means.  Men  are  not  likely  to 
reach  the  grace  without  the  divinely  ordained 
means;  but  men  should  not  swallow  the  means  and 
nibble  at  the  grace.  To  stop  the  millionth  part  of 
a  spiritual  inch  this  side  of  Christ  is  to  cheat  our 
souls  of  what  is  due  them.  Returning  to  your  home 
from  church  this  morning,  you  will  not  sit  down 
very  long  in  your  parlour,  will  you?  By  common 
consent,  you  are  all  dining-room  pilgrims.  You 
will  neither  tarry  nor  rest  until  you  reach  that  prom- 
ised land  of  the  inner  man.  But  suppose  there  is 
one  who  enters  his  dining-room,  beholds  the  table 
groaning  with  delicious  food,  sits  down  and  asks 
a  blessing,  and  then — mirabile  dictui — does  not  eat 
a  single  bite!  What's  the  dining-room  for?  For 
food.  What's  the  table  for?  For  food.  What's 
the  food  for?  To  be  eaten,  of  course.  "O  fool- 
ish man,"  you  say,  "  to  have  everything  good  to 
eat,  and  yet  to  remain  hungry."  But,  after  all,  is 
he  one  whit  more  foolish  than  those  who  have  the 
Scriptures,  the  Church,  the  Ministry,  this  glory- 
drenched  world  in  which  no  two  snowflakes  are  alike 
and  in  which  every  soul  is  different  from  every 
other  soul,  and  yet  falls  short  of  the  living  Christ  ? 
Men  who  mope  about  looking  for  a  dead  Christ 
will  go  moping  all  their  days.    There  is  not  room 


122  RELIGION  AS  LIFE 

in  time  and  space  for  a  dead  Christ,  and  yet  the 
universe  itself  is  not  spacious  enough  to  hold  the 
living  Christ.  Behold,  the  heaven  of  heavens  can- 
not contain  Him,  He  runs  from  sky  to  sky,  eternity 
is  the  breath  of  His  nostrils,  the  sundown  heavens 
catch  fire  from  the  brightness  of  His  face  and  burn 
to  molten  ruins  through  all  the  wide-winged  west, 
and  soon  the  April  world,  with  its  young  grasses 
and  opening  buds  and  bursting  throats,  will  turn 
our  planet  into  a  pulpit,  saying :  "  He  hath  plucked 
the  sting  from  death;  He  hath  chained  the  grave 
to  His  chariot  wheels;  He  hath  gone  up  on  high, 
and  all  the  gates  of  glory  opened  at  His  coming; 
He  who  hath  made  all  things  beautiful  hath  coined 
Himself  into  beauty  for  the  world;  He  hath  led 
captivity  captive  and  given  gifts  to  men." 

Religion  as  life  includes  a  willing  will  and  the 
living  Christ.  There  is  a  final  step — the  result  of 
it  all — and  that  is  deathless  life.  ''  Ye  will  come  to 
me  " — what  for? — "  that  ye  may  have  life."  Now, 
mere  existence  may  be  written  in  a  wounded  past 
tense  and  a  limping  present;  but  life — rich,  unfail- 
ing, ever-deepening  life — is  an  eternal  now.  *'  This 
is  life  eternal  " — on  either  side  the  grave,  in  the 
body  or  out  of  the  body,  fenced  in  by  matter  or 
lifted  beyond  the  choking  clutch  of  matter,  any- 
where, in  any  world,  for  ever  and  ever — "  this  is 
life  eternal,  that  they  may  know  thee,  the  only  true 
God,  and  Jesus  Christ,  whom  thou  hast  sent."  Here 
it  is,  my   friend,   the   biggest,    sweetest,   gladdest 


RELIGION  AS  LIFE  123 

secret  at  the  centre  of  the  worlds.  Christ  hath 
plucked  out  the  heart  of  the  great  mystery.  He 
fulfils  the  world-old  dreams,  hopes,  aspirations; 
they  all  come  winging  forth  to  sun  themselves  in 
the  light  of  His  glory.  Is  it  not  life  for  which  we 
pant?  Here  it  is — wonderful,  glorious,  unutter- 
able! Why,  you  may  have  words  as  lustrous 
as  the  shining  colours  in  imagination's  loom,  and 
your  words  are  too  weak  to  express  the  smallest 
part  of  the  soul's  higher  enchantments.  Interfused 
with  the  divine  reality,  his  spirit  pulsing  with 
eternal  life,  a  man  may  lean  over  the  edge  of 
space  and  learn  no  new  wonder.  For  the  inner 
facts  of  the  ultimate  have  beckoned  to  him.  To 
miss  them  is  to  toss  stars  away  and  toy  with  gew- 
gaws. Loving  what  God  loves,  he  hates  what  God 
hates.  For  no  man  can  have  a  supernal  love  for 
the  supreme  and  not  have  a  terrible  scorn  for  the 
superficial.  To  have  this  love  of  love  and  hate 
of  hate  is  to  be  alive;  to  have  it  not  is  to  be  dead. 
But  because  you  may  be  spiritually  dead,  do  not 
slander  the  universe  by  calling  it  a  graveyard.  O, 
plunge  into  the  thrilling  tides  of  being!  Come 
where  Heaven's  refreshing  billows  are,  where 
woven  calms  smite  the  harp-strings  of  the  soul  as 
softly  as  tinkling  bells  twirling  lyric  tunes  out  of 
the  unspoken  silences.  Wake  up !  Be  made  alive ! 
Love,  laugh,  weep,  work,  sigh — be  anything,  but 
don't  be  dead!  Just  to  be  alive,  and  hug  a  living 
world,    throwing    your    grateful    arms    about    its 


124  RELIGION  AS  LIFE 

soft-green  neck;  just  to  be  alive,  and  walk  the 
kindly,  brothering  ways;  just  to  be  alive,  and  know 
that  the  world  is  one  vast  red  Calvary  which 
Joseph's  garden  touches  to  immortal  bloom;  just 
to  be  alive,  and  to  feel  that  you  are  going  to  be 
more  and  more  alive  forever — is  it  not  enough  to 
make  you  aware  of  the  music  behind  ''  the  creaking 
of  the  tented  sky,  the  ticking  of  Eternity  "  ? 


VIII 
GOD'S   USE  OF  AFFLICTION 

"And  as  he  passed  by,  he  saw  a  man  blind  from  his  birth. 
And  his  disciples  asked  him,  saying.  Rabbi,  who  sinned,  this 
man,  or  his  parents,  that  he  should  be  born  blind?  Jesus 
answered.  Neither  did  this  man  sin,  nor  his  parents;  but 
that  the  works  of  God  should  be  made  manifest  in  him." — 
St.  John  ix  :  i,  2, 3. 

"  'f  \  7H0  sinned?  "  It  is  one  of  the  old,  old 
f'  V  q^'f^stions  of  man.  Sin  is  such  a  grue- 
some factor  in  our  race,  ranging  so  wide, 
cutting  so  deep,  hurting  so  many,  that  the  Jew- 
beheld  this  dark  assassin  hiding  in  the  background 
of  every  calamity,  of  every  sorrow,  of  every  sick- 
ness. And  there  is  so  much  authority  in  human 
experience  for  the  ancient  Jew's  viewpoint,  that 
men  do  well  to  pause  before  filing  a  single  bill  of 
exceptions.  But  that  bill  has  been  filed,  and  by 
no  mere  man.  It  was  the  Christ  who  breaks  the 
power  of  sin,  who  cleanses  from  the  guilt  of  sin, 
who  saves  from  sin — it  was  this  Christ  who  said 
that  all  of  life's  afflictions  are  not  due  to  sin,  that 
there  are  exceptions  to  this  all  but  universal  cause 
of  human  suffering.  But  the  disciples  thought  there 
was  no  exception ;  and  when  they  saw  the  man  blind 
from  his  birth,  they  asked :     "  Rabbi,  who  sinned, 

125 


126     GOD'S  USE  OF  AFFLICTION 

this  man,  or  his  parents,  that  he  should  be  born 
Wind?"  He  is  bhnd;  therefore,  he  sinned,  or  else 
his  parents  sinned  before  him — that  is  their  view- 
point. Christ's  answer,  in  its  large  suggestiveness 
and  manifold  implications,  is  one  of  the  grandest 
utterances  that  ever  came  from  His  wisdom-speak- 
ing lips.  It  reveals  His  profound  consciousness  of 
world-mysteries;  it  shows  His  insight  into  those 
unexplored  remainders  constantly  coming  into  the 
human  foreground  out  of  half-lights  and  shadows 
too  deep  for  thought;  it  manifests  His  comprehen- 
sion of  a  problem  that  haunts  the  wise  man  and 
the  ignorant,  the  ancient  world  and  the  modern; 
and  it  throws  a  kindly  light  upon  the  question  of 
human  affliction  and  God's  use  of  it.  So,  in  our 
study,  let  us  give  the  term  affliction  its  widest  mean- 
ing. 


Suppose  we  begin  our  inquiry  close  to  the  roots 
of  the  disciples'  problem,  as  well  as  the  world's 
vast  problem — the  problem  of  sin.  Now,  in  order 
to  sin,  you  must  have  a  sinner;  you  must  have  a 
will  choosing  that  which  is  wrong;  a  heart  and 
mind  giving  hospitality  to  those  spiritual  tramps 
which  have  no  place  on  the  highways  of  right. 
Well,  this  much  is  certain :  You  do  not  have  to  go 
very  far  to  find  such  a  man  or  woman.  Like  the 
Master,  as  you  pass  by,  going  your  various  ways 
in  life,  you  may  easily  see  these  sinningly  blind 


GOD'S  USE  OF  AFFLICTION      127 

people  from  their  birth.  They  have  never  truly 
visioned  the  beauty  of  holiness;  their  heart-eyes 
have  never  beheld  the  awfulness  of  goodness;  their 
souls  have  never  been  consciously  stirred  by  the 
creative  power  of  that  new  and  second  birth  which 
leagues  us  in  with  God  and  Christ  and  conquest, 
making  life,  as  Amiel  said,  to  be  a  perpetual  achieve- 
ment. Like  the  philosopher's  cave  men,  they  are 
sitting  with  their  backs  to  the  light.  They  have 
no  eastern  windows,  no  dew-drenched  morning, 
no  heavenly  greenness. 

Now  what  is  your  personal  attitude  toward  this 
terrible  affliction  named  sin — sin  not  as  a  theory, 
sin  not  as  a  theologic  doctrine,  but  sin  as  a  destruc- 
tive, Winding,  killing  power  in  human  life?  Your 
attitude  may  be  that  of  the  disciples.  '*  Who  did 
sin,"  you  may  ask,  "  these  people  or  their  spiritual 
ancestors,  mayhap  in  some  previous  state  of  ex- 
istence, that  they  should  be  born  blind  ?  '*  And 
then  you  may  go  nonchalantly  on  your  speculative 
way,  yourself  stupidly  blind  to  one  of  the  bewil- 
dering riddles  of  the  universe.  But  you  may  also 
choose  the  second  and  nobler  alternative,  manifest- 
ing the  very  spirit  of  the  Master.  "  Why  are  these 
multitudes,  my  friends,  my  acquaintances,  blind  and 
sinful?"  you  may  say.  *' I  cannot  answer  all  of 
my  own  question,  of  course.  It  involves  too  many 
mysteries,  a  world  in  the  making,  heredity,  the  tre- 
mendous problem  of  evil — these  and  a  thousand 
questions  I  cannot  answer.     But  of  this  much  I  am 


128     GOD'S  USE  OF  AFFLICTION 

absolutely  sure:  Here  is  my  spiritual  opportunity; 
the  works  of  God's  redeeming  grace  may  be  made 
manifest  in  them  through  me;  I  will  tell  them  of 
the  all-glorious  Saviour;  then  they,  too,  may  be 
able  to  say  with  the  man  no  longer  blind :  '  One 
thing  I  know,  that,  whereas  I  was  blind,  now  I 
see.'  " 

Let  me  say  again:  Sin  is  no  mere  make-beHeve; 
no  game  of  blind-man's  buff;  none  but  fools  make 
a  mock  at  sin.  Oh,  never  apologize  for  sin;  never 
minimize  the  horror  of  sin — at  least  not  until 
Gethsemane  and  Calvary  and  humanity's  raging 
inner  hells  have  been  blotted  from  the  map  of  the 
spiritual  universe.  Yet  does  not  the  horror  of  sin 
manifest  the  exceeding  glory  of  the  Christ's  for- 
giveness? Herein  doth  God  manifest  His  works 
in  the  supreme  reaches  of  reality.  Rightly  con- 
ceived, God's  redemption  in  Christ  dwarfs  all  of 
God's  other  achievements.  It  leads  us  in  behind 
the  rind  of  matter  that  we  may  see  the  operations 
of  Spirit,  that  we  may  behold  the  beating  of  the 
Divine  Heart  as  He  pumps  His  crimson,  cleansing 
tides  of  health  through  the  moral  sicknesses  of  the 
race.  Then  follows  another  question :  What 
higher,  diviner,  more  delicate  work  is  there  in  all 
God's  world  than  that  one  immortal  mortal  should 
tell  his  brother  immortal  mortal  of  the  Saviour 
from  sin  ?  You  will  find  no  higher  work  than  this, 
my  friend.  You  may  tunnel  under  the  rivers;  you 
may  fly  through  the  air  on  mechanical  wings;  you 


GOD'S  USE  OF  AFFLICTION     129 

may  pile  stone  and  steel  dizzily  high;  you  may 
weigh  the  stars  and  count  the  atoms;  you  may 
amass  wealth  until  your  fingers  are  stained  with 
gold  and  your  hearts  are  harder  than  silver  dollars ; 
you  may  lay  up  knowledge  until  every  cell  in  your 
brain  records  cold,  colourless  facts  with  the  accu- 
racy of  a  register  counting  cash.  But  until  you 
wake  up  to  the  privilege  of  helping  God  help  men 
realize  the  Saviourhood  of  Christ  Jesus,  you  can 
never  know  how  trivial,  in  comparison,  even  other- 
wise important  things  are.  Ah!  here  is  the  true 
human  career — a  Christianity  uncorrupted  by  atro- 
phied professionalism;  a  life  as  fresh  as  spring 
grasses,  as  songful  as  spring  birds,  as  undecaying 
as  the  never  old,  ever  new  enchantments  of  spring. 
Why,  then,  are  all  these  sinners  by  the  side  of  my 
road  through  life?  Did  their  parents,  did  their 
ancestors  sin,  that  they  should  be  born  blind  sin- 
ners? Answer  frankly:  *' I  do  not  know;  Plato 
may  be  wrestling  with  that  problem  in  some  acad- 
emy beyond  the  skies;  but  this  much  I  do  know: 
God's  works  of  salvation  may  be  manifest  in  my 
brother  men  through  me.  Thus  I  am  resolved  to 
help  God,  to  help  them,  to  help  myself ! " 


II 

Another  very  practical  application  of  our  principle 
IS  made  possible  by  the  lonely  lives  all  around  us. 
We  shall  miss,  I  fear,  the  larger  and  deeper  aspects 


130     GOD'S  USE  OF  AFFLICTION 

of  human  loneliness  if  we  confine  our  thinking  to 
any  particular  class.  And  yet,  just  because  there 
is  so  much  ground  for  so  doing,  we  begin  at  once 
to  classify.  We  think  of  the  loneliness  of  the 
young  man  who  has  but  recently  come  to  the  city; 
we  think  of  the  young  woman  who  is  striving, 
against  terrible  odds,  to  make  an  honest  living  while 
she  keeps  her  soul  clean;  we  think  of  the  poor,  who 
experience  the  sting  of  wintry  winds  and  the 
blight  of  summer  diseases;  we  think  of  the  aged, 
the  infirm,  the  disappointed,  the  defeated — a  mighty 
host  who  are  acceptable  soldiers  in  the  army  of  the 
lonely.  But  is  there  not  a  kind  of  democracy,  a 
tone  of  universality  in  human  loneliness,  that  em- 
phatically forbids  our  applying  it  to  one  class  or 
the  other?  Some  of  the  loneliest  folk  I  have  ever 
known  were  not  poor,  but  rich;  they  were  not  in 
ill  health,  but  physically  sound ;  they  were  not  igno- 
rant, but  brilliantly  educated;  they  were  not  social 
outcasts,  but  social  favourites.  It  is  quite  true  that 
they  undertook  the  transaction  of  the  heavy  busi- 
ness of  life  on  a  meager  spiritual  capital;  but  is  not 
this  simply  an  additional  reason  why  they  should 
not  be  ostracized  from  the  weaponless  ranks  of 
the  lonely? 

But  let  us  close  the  debate,  and  get  down  to  facts. 
God  is  a  social  Being;  we  live  in  a  social  universe; 
therefore,  man  must  have  the  companionship  of  God 
on  the  one  hand  and  the  fellowship  of  man  on  the 
other,  if  he  is  to  realize  the  ends  for  which  he  has 


GOD'S  USE  OF  AFFLICTION     131 

been  created.  "  A  man,"  says  Emerson,  "  does  not 
tie  his  shoe  without  recognizing  laws  which  bind 
the  farthest  regions  of  nature:  moon,  plant,  gas, 
crystal,  are  concrete  geometry  and  numbers."  And 
there  is  a  spiritual  geometry,  in  the  dullest  as  well 
as  in  the  brightest  Hfe,  that  is  infinitely  more  won- 
derful than  anything  to  be  found  in  the  daring 
science  of  mathematics.  Your  theorem,  my 
theorem,  is  this :  Given  the  reality  of  lonely  people 
all  about  us,  how  is  it  possible  that  the  works  of 
God  may  be  made  manifest  in  them?  Well,  go  to 
that  inexperienced  young  man,  far  from  home  and 
among  strangers,  and  make  him  feel  that  he  has 
suddenly  come  into  a  tingling  atmosphere  of  broth- 
erliness.  I  tell  you  God  will  work  a  miracle  of 
comradeship  before  your  very  eyes.  O  woman, 
seek  out  that  girl  who  wets  her  pillow  with  tears 
of  loneliness  night  after  night.  Give  her  the  kindly 
feel  of  a  sistering  soul.  I  tell  you  that  God  will 
manifest  a  work  of  such  spiritual  beauty  then  and 
there,  that  angels  will  be  telling  each  other  about 
it  long  after  monuments  have  become  atoms  of  dust 
whirled  around  on  the  wings  of  the  wind.  Visit 
the  family  who  reside  on  Poverty  Alley.  Take 
them  bread  and  clothing  and  gold,  and  do  not  leave 
God  behind.  Of  course,  God  will  be  there  before 
you,  He  will  be  there  with  you.  He  will  be  there 
after  you;  but  what  I  mean  is — make  them  feel 
your  personal  faith  in  a  personal  God.  Let  not  the 
brilliance    of    your    humanitarianism   obscure   the 


132     GOD'S  USE  OF  AFFLICTION 

splendour  of  the  divine  redemption.  Do  this  for 
Christ,  and  I  tell  you  that  you  shall  know  the  joy 
of  doing  some  of  the  greater  works  which  He  has 
left  you  here  in  this  world  to  do.  The  fact  that 
you  are  here;  the  fact  that  you  are  in  an  open  and 
not  a  closed  universe;  the  fact  that  you  are  part  of 
an  unfinished  and  not  a  finished  world — these  and 
a  thousand  voices  are  saying  that  God  has  need  of 
you,  as  He  needs  nobody  else;  that  God  works 
through  you,  as  He  works  through  nobody  else; 
that  God  speaks  through  you,  as  He  speaks  through 
nobody  else.  Realize  that  you  are  a  finite  organ 
of  infinite  goodness  and  mystery;  it  will  kill  your 
conceit  and  it  will  thrill  your  heart.  And  then,  I 
beseech  you,  do  not  ignore  the  man  in  your  own 
circle.  Go  to  him,  also,  though  it  will  be  a  harder 
task  than  to  go  to  the  hall  bedroom  or  the  grimy 
back  street.  Go  to  him  and  tell  him  that  God  and 
His  soul  are  the  undying  realities.  He  may  be  rich, 
but  a  deathless  man  cannot  be  vitally  nourished  on 
lifeless  stocks  and  bonds.  He  may  live  in  a  palace, 
but  if  the  world  itself  is  not  large  enough  for  a 
soul,  four  walls  may  pinch  and  shrivel  him  into  the 
mummy  of  a  man.  He  may  be  brilliant,  but  if  he 
is  not  wise  unto  the  eternal  wisdom,  he  knows  that 
all  his  brilliance  is  only  a  flickering  taper  which  one 
gust  of  the  wind  of  eternity  will  blow  out.  Essen- 
tially, he  is  a  lonely  man.  **  Unlovely,  nay,  fright- 
ful," said  an  American  philosopher,  '^  is  the  soli- 
tude of   the   soul   which   is   without   God  in  the 


GOD'S  USE  OF  AFFLICTION      133 

world."  Go  tell  him,  then,  of  that  God  who  loves 
good  society,  of  that  Christ  who  is  creating  a  king- 
dom of  pure  souls.  You  may  be  amazed  at  the 
manifestation  of  God's  works  in  him  through  you. 
Browning  wrote  Francis  Thompson,  who  stood 
knee-deep  in  the  mud  and  mire  of  London  streets 
and  wrote  songs  that  might  be  sung  to  harps  of 
gold,  a  generous  letter  of  appreciation  and  encour- 
agement. Now  Mr.  Wilfrid  Meynell  was  the  man 
who  called  Browning's  attention  to  Thompson's 
genius,  as  he  was  the  greatheart  who  nursed  the 
''  vagabond  poet  "  back  to  life  and  hope.  And  it 
was  to  Meynell  that  Thompson  wrote  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  letters  ever  written.  "  So  to  you," 
he  said,  "  I  owe  not  merely  Browning's  notice,  but 
also  that  ever  I  should  have  been  worth  his  notice. 
The  little  flowers  you  sent  him  were  sprung  from 
your  own  seed.  I  only  hope  that  the  time  may  not 
be  far  distant  when  better  and  less  scanty  flowers 
may  repay  the  pains  and  patience  and  tenderness 
of  your  gardening."  Well,  if  a  princely  soul  like 
Wilfrid  Meynell  can  sow  seed  which  blossom  into 
those  lovely  flowers  of  song  named  *'  The  Hound 
of  Heaven,"  and  the  "  Ode  to  the  Setting  Sun,"  it 
is  gloriously  possible  for  you  to  introduce  your  fel- 
low mortals  to  that  Divine  Being  whom  Browning 
called  "the  Perfect  Poet."  Yes;  God  writes  poetry 
in  the  shining  stars;  in  the  sun  that  does  its  "  dying 
so  triumphally ;  "  in  winged  creatures  that  warble; 
in  lowly  creatures  that  creep;  in  clods  that  bloom 


134     GOD'S  USE  OF  AFFLICTION 

through  their  stir  of  inner  night;  in  old  things  and 
new  things,  in  little  things  and  big  things  God  is 
pouring  in  and  out  His  vastly  sweet  and  deep  poetic 
tides.  But  Paul  thought  God  wrote  His  best  poetry 
not  in  things,  but  in  souls;  not  in  stars,  but  in  men; 
not  in  fair  moons,  but  in  fair  women;  not  in  the 
sob  of  surging  seas,  but  in  the  laughter  of  silver- 
voiced  children.  *'  We,"  says  Paul,  "  are  God's 
poems."  Then  let  us  strive  to  be  worthy  of  our 
Author.  Have  we  lost  our  spiritual  rhythm,  our 
celestial  rhyme,  our  planetlike  music?  Then  I  rec- 
ommend to  you  this  ideal  song  restorer :  Tell  some 
weaker,  lonelier  one  of  the  rescuing,  redeeming 
Christ.  You  will  then  get  back  your  own  song 
even  while  you  give  immortal  singing  to  a  songless 
human.  And  what  is  more  important  still,  you  will 
make  an  opportunity  for  God  to  manifest  His 
works  of  Saviourhood.  O,  help  God,  help  your 
friend,  help  yourself!  Be  a  spiritual  architect, 
building  upon  true  foundations.  The  temple  of  your 
soul  may  arise  without  the  sound  of  hammer  or 
trowel  just  because  it  rises  to  the  music  of  eternity! 

"  I  will  hew  great  windows  for  my  soul, 
Channels  of  splendour,  portals  of  release ; 
Out  of  earth's  prison  walls  will  I  hew  them, 
That  my  thundering  soul  may  push  through  them; 
Through  stratas  of  human  strife  and  passion 
I  will  tunnel  a  way,  I  will  carve  and  fashion 
With  the  might  of  my  soul's  intensity 
Windows  fronting  immensity, 
Towering  out  of  Time. 


GOD'S  USE  OF  AFFLICTION      135 

I  will  breathe  the  air  of  another  clime 
That  my  spirit's   pain   may  cease. 
That  the  being  of  me  have  room  to  grow, 
That  my  eyes  may  meet  God's  eyes  and  know, 
I  will  hew  great  windows,  wonderful  windows,  meas- 
ureless windows,  for  my  soul." 


Ill 

The  works  of  God  manifest  in  human  suffering 
and  sorrow  is  one  of  the  lustrous  chapters  in  the 
history  of  our  kind.  I  am  not  thinking  now  of 
those  who  receive  a  pin-scratch  and  complain  as 
if  they  had  had  a  sword-thrust;  nor  of  those  who 
have  the  toothache  and  imagine  the  world  to  be 
one  gaping  mouth  of  pain;  nor  of  those  who,  when 
they  "  skid  "  upon  slippery  streets,  vociferate  as  if 
they  had  been  torpedoed  by  a  submarine.  I  am 
thinking,  rather,  of  that  great  company  whose  white 
robes  are  being  sewed  with  crimson  stitches,  as 
their  wearers  go  up  out  of  sore  tribulation  to  join 
their  snow-plumed  comrades  on  the  beautiful,  pain- 
less Other  Side.  It  is  upon  beds  of  pain  that  we 
detect  the  deeper  processes  of  soul-making.  Words- 
worth defined  "  poetry  as  the  breath  of  the  finer 
spirit  of  knowledge."  May  we  not  say  that  suffer- 
ing, in  which  body  and  soul  have  their  respective 
parts,  is  the  breath  of  the  finer  spirit  of  life?  For 
the  inmost,  utmost  things  of  God  are  revealed 
through  pain.  For  example,  how  does  God  mani- 
fest his  finest  work  in  patience?  He  takes  this 
young  New  York  mother,  terribly  injured,  shuts 


136     GOD'S  USE  OF  AFFLICTION 

her  in  a  Second  Avenue  room  no  larger  than  a  com- 
partment in  Noah's  Ark.  She  cannot  get  out,  so 
she  stays  there — stays  ten  years,  then  twenty,  then 
thirty,  then  forty,  then  fifty-one  years.  But  she  is 
not  alone;  God  is  not  a  theory  to  her;  He  is  more 
real  than  the  light  that  quivers  in  the  lens  of  her 
eye.  In  time  that  room  becomes  a  shrine  for  pil- 
grims from  the  ends  of  the  earth.  There  is  no 
music,  no  art,  no  eloquence,  no  learning  to  draw 
them.  No;  but  there  is  life — great,  rich,  joyous, 
uncomplaining,  transfigured  life,  holy  character 
made  in  the  higher  moulds  of  reality.  Bella  Cook 
knew  things  eternal  as  not  one  in  millions  do. 
There  is  probably  not  another  case  of  invalidism  in 
history  comparable  to  this  great  woman's.  She  saw 
her  twelve  physicians  pass  away;  she  wrote  her 
books  in  agonies  of  pain;  she  superintended  the  in- 
terests of  her  various  mission  fields  with  states- 
manlike ability;  she  became  a  dedicated  human  con- 
duit through  which  the  rich  poured  their  streams  of 
golden  bounty;  she  sent  her  messages  of  love  and 
good  cheer  to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  But  she  her- 
self was  the  living  miracle  of  grace  and  patience. 
One  cannot  forget  the  morning  he  entered  St. 
Peter's  for  the  first  time;  nor  the  afternoon  he 
scaled  the  snowy  marble  heights  of  Milan  Cathe- 
dral; but  that  little  upper  room,  in  the  rear  of  that 
Second  Avenue  saloon,  is  more  indelibly  impressed 
upon  my  memory  than  the  wonderful  temples  are. 
Why,  there  was  something  holy,  something  awful, 


GOD'S  USE  OF  AFFLICTION      137 

about  that  room!  Its  roof  was  so  thin  that  the 
sky  just  seemed  to  come  caving  in;  it  was  so  large 
that  space  seemed  straitened  to  contain  it;  it  was 
so  high  that  one  seemed  to  stand  on  the  highest  star, 
ready  to  humbly  place  his  foot  on  the  lowest  step 
of  the  throne  of  God.  And  how  does  God  mani- 
fest his  works  of  human  tenderness?  He  dreams 
the  dream  of  parenthood  into  two  souls  with  but 
a  single  thought.  Then  the  infant,  the  boy,  the 
youth  comes  to  gladden  all  their  days.  Yes;  he 
comes,  but  alas!  he  goes — goes  and  leaves  grief's 
fiery  footprints  behind.  "  Who  is  the  woman  with 
the  face  of  an  angel?  Who  is  the  man  with  the 
tender,  solicitous  eyes  ? "  These  are  questions 
whispered  in  many  a  gathering  where  work  is  being 
done  for  God's  poor  today.  That  sweet,  pure  fem- 
inine face,  that  strong,  kindly  masculine  face  are 
types  well-known  in  our  world.  They  have  lost 
their  own  for  a  while  that  they  might  gain  others 
and  their  own  forever.  They  father  and  mother 
a  whole  community  now,  whereas  they  might  have 
fathered  and  mothered  one  family  before.  But  now 
theirs  is  the  might  of  a  divine  mildness,  the 
strength  that  joyfully  yields  to  the  needs  of  human 
weakness.  Ah,  how  does  God  manifest  His  most 
august  works,  at  last  peopling  heaven  with  heavenly 
souls?  First  of  all,  He  peoples  earth  with  Christ- 
like men  and  women;  and  the  road  to  Christlikeness 
leads  through  Gethsemane  on  to  Calvary.  If  we 
suffer  with  Him,  we  shall  also  reign  with  Him; 


138     GOD'S  USE  OF  AFFLICTION 

we  must  learn  to  bear  the  cross  before  we  are  fit 
to  wear  the  crown.  Advised  to  go  into  a  garden 
of  roses  and  be  inspired,  Ibsen  answered:  "No; 
put  mould  in  my  eyes  and  make  me  bhnd;  or  send 
me  into  the  grim  city,  and  I  will  sing  you  the  jubilee 
of  life."  Thus  the  secret  of  a  universe  in  the  mak- 
ing is  this :  The  profoundest,  most  hallowed  chant- 
ers of  the  jubilee  of  Hfe  learn  their  parts,  not  in  a 
garden  of  roses  only,  but  in  a  garden  where  thorns 
grow  before  roses  blow.  There  is  one  prayer  we 
men  and  women  in  health  ought  always  to  pray, 
and  never  to  faint  in  praying :  "  My  Father,  for 
Christ's  sake,  make  me  unafraid  of  pain;  make  me 
fearless  of  the  dark.  If  it  be  Thy  holy  will  for 
me  to  suffer,  now  in  health  grant  me  faith  to  realize 
that  Thou  art  lovingly  seeking  an  opportunity  to 
manifest  Thy  divinest  works,  as  Thou  canst  not  in 
a  life  unacquainted  with  pain  and  sorrow.  Amen." 
God  would  not  be  God,  my  friends,  if  He  were  more 
interested  in  giving  us  easy  and  comfortable  lives 
than  He  is  divinely  determined  to  make  us  large 
and  comprehensive  souls.  Trouble,  pain,  sickness, 
and  sorrow  are  heaven's  challenge  to  us  to  try  the 
resources  of  our  spirit,  even  while  we  give  God 
His  chance  to  manifest  finer  works  than  are  seen 
in  mountains,  suns,  and  stars.  Be  not  afraid,  there- 
fore, of  the  dark;  for — 

**  The  dark  hath  many  dear  avails ; 

The  dark  distils  divinest  dews; 
The  dark  is  rich  with  nightingales,"    , 

With  dreams,  and  with  the  Heavenly  Muse." 


IX 
THE  CHRISTIAN'S  WEALTH 

"  Wherefore,  let  no  one  glory  in  men.  For  all  things  are 
yours;  whether  Paul,  or  Apollos,  or  Cephas,  or  the  world, 
or  life,  or  death,  or  things  present,  or  things  to  come;  all 
are  yours;  and  ye  are  Christ's;  and  Christ  is  God's." — I  Cor. 
Ill :  21, 22, 23. 

IT  is  said  that  Tennyson's  brother,  Frederick, 
was  a  shy,  backward  youth,  easily  nonplussed 
at  social  functions.  To  calm  Frederick  as  they 
entered  a  drawing-room,  Alfred  would  whisper  to 
him :  "  Now  just  think  of  Herschel's  star-clusters, 
brother."  The  poet  knew  that  if  the  mind  of  his 
brother  was  caught  up  into  the  majesty  and  im- 
mensity of  astronomic  worlds,  he  could  be  neither 
awed  nor  excited  by  the  babble  of  the  average  draw- 
ing-room. Paul  applies  a  like  principle  to  the  Chris- 
tian. Tempted  to  dwell  among  small  things,  be- 
wildered by  the  world's  gaudy  shows,  blinded  by  the 
flying  dust  of  the  present,  Christians  lose  the  sense 
of  true  perspective.  Evidently,  the  Corinthians  had 
suffered  such  a  loss.  That  is  why  Paul  recalls  them 
to  their  better,  deeper  selves;  that  is  why  he  reminds 
them  of  their  immeasurable  wealth.  All  we  need 
is  to  get  Paul's  viewpoint,  Paul's  vision  of  God  in 

139 


140        THE    CHRISTIAN'S    WEALTH 

Christ,   and   we,   too,    shall  begin  to   think   more 
worthily  of  our  gleaming  piles  of  uncounted  gold. 


In  taking  account  of  the  Christian's  wealth,  Paul 
makes  a  large  place  for  all  true  teachers.  "  Whether 
Paul,  or  Apollos,  or  Cephas."  The  completely  uni- 
versal mind  is  the  Christian  mind.  Wherever  truth 
is,  in  any  realm  of  being,  there  the  Christian  has  a 
challenge  to  gird  up  his  mental  loins  for  conquest. 
For  truth  is  not  isolated,  local,  fragmentary;  truth 
is  as  unprejudiced  as  the  sun,  as  calm  as  the  ever- 
lasting hills,  as  unconfined  as  the  ether.  All  that 
truth  requires  to  make  its  home  in  a  personality  is  a 
pure  heart,  a  hungry  mind,  and  an  obedient  will. 
This  is  all,  I  say,  but  it  is  everything.  Wherever 
you  find  purity  of  heart,  intellectual  integrity,  and 
unswerving  obedience  to  the  highest,  you  invariably 
find  a  combination  of  qualities  possible  only  to  the 
soul  that  is  living  out  the  reality  of  the  inliving 
Christ.  He  is  the  owner  of  all  truth-bringers.  He 
says :  ''  Paul,  with  his  immortal  cargoes  of  truth, 
outward  bound  from  the  Coasts  of  Eternity,  is 
mine;  but  Paul  was  so  heavily  freighted  that  he 
could  not  bring  all  of  my  wealth  to  me.  So  God 
sent  me  another  consignment  by  Apollos;  and  lo! 
when  the  good  ship  Apollos  arrived,  loaded  to  the 
water's  edge,  I  found  that  there  was  still  more  to 
come.    Looking  again  toward  the  sea  of  truth^  I 


THE    CHRISTIAN'S   WEALTH        141 

beheld  Cephas  saiHng  direct  to  my  spiritual  port. 
Then,  after  all  had  come  ashore,  Captain  Paul  gath- 
ered us  about  him  and  said :  '  Brethren,  we  have 
brought  you  some  nuggets  from  the  mines  of  truth; 
we  have  sailed  the  oceans  of  mystery  to  deliver  our 
precious  freight  at  your  doors ;  but  there  is  so  much 
more  behind,  so  much  that  He  who  is  the  Way,  the 
Truth,  and  the  Life,  desires  to  send  you,  that  He 
has  chartered  all  noble  spiritual  craft  to  ply  between 
Him  and  your  souls.  One  may  be  Paul,  another 
Apollos,  and  another  Cephas;  but  the  names  are 
less  than  the  truth  they  bring.  All  true  teachers 
are  your  servants,  ordained  by  the  God  of  nature 
and  of  grace,  to  enrich  you;  all — all  are  yours,  and 
ye  are  Christ's,  and  Christ  is  God's.'  " 

Unfortunately,  many  Christian  people  fall  far 
short  of  Paul's  standard  in  measuring  their  wealth. 
We  are  tempted  to  lease  too  many  of  truth's  domains 
to  error,  unbelief,  and  infidehty.  We  cut  our  vast 
spiritual  estate  up  into  cross-lots  and  say:  ''This 
belongs  to  science;  this  to  philosphy;  this  to  art; 
and  that  to  the  world."  Have  we  not  a  fatal  genius 
for  makeshifts?  Do  we  not  glory  in  our  span-high 
artificiality?  Now,  Paul's  attitude  is  opposed  to  all 
this.  He  was  a  spiritual  statesman,  claiming  the 
universe  as  his  own.  He  refused  to  concede  any 
part  of  God's  dominion  to  the  devil.  He  regarded 
sin  as  an  outlaw,  a  vile  intruder,  having  no  rights, 
and  entitled  to  none.  Manifested  to  destroy  the 
works  of  the  devil,  Christ  restores  man  to  his  true 


142        THE    CHRISTIAN'S    WEALTH 

order  and  heirship  in  the  worlds  and  the  ages.  Con- 
sequently, Paul  seems  to  say :  *'  Hold  up  every  true 
teacher  coming  your  way  and  shake  the  truth  out 
of  him.  At  first  he  may  be  loath  to  part  with  his 
truth,  but  stand  pleadingly  by  until  he  imparts  what 
is  rightfully  your  own  also."  If  only  we  are  in 
Christ  and  Christ  in  us,  we  may  becomingly  waylay 
every  truth-bringer  from  Moses  to  Paul,  from  Plato 
to  Darwin,  relieve  him  of  his  gleaming  treasure 
without  pauperizing  him,  and  go  on  our  way  re- 
joicing, because  we  are  as  sure  of  being  guided 
into  all  truth  as  we  are  that  *'  the  innocent  moon, 
which  nothing  does  but  shine,  moves  all  the  labour- 
ing surges  of  the  world."  We  must  have  more  of 
Paul's  catholicity  and  mental  ampleness,  which  is 
the  fruit  of  genuine  Christian  faith.  Let  a  man 
but  attain  the  apostle's  viewpoint  and  he  will  ex- 
claim with  Mrs.  Browning:  ''I  shall  never  again 
be  poor,  thank  God !  "  Breasting  the  stream  of  the 
years  unafraid,  he  is  ever  searching  the  floors  of 
the  spiritual  deeps  for  new  pearls  of  truth.  He 
has  ceased  to  glory  in  men  because  he  has  seen  the 
glory  of  God.  No  longer  interested  in  building 
disturbing  fences  around  sectarian  gardens,  he  de- 
lights in  counting  the  star-panels  that  fence  in  his 
shining  worlds  of  beauty  and  love.  Owning  the 
solar  year  of  time  and  the  dateless  eras  of  eternity, 
the  Christian  also  owns  Paul,  and  Apollos,  and 
Cephas,  and  all  truth-bearers  from  all  tealms. 


THE    CHRISTIAN'S   WEALTH        143 

II 

Because  all  things  belong  to  God  and  His  Christ, 
Paul  puts  in  a  second  claim  of  the  Christian.  He 
says  that  "  the  world  "  is  his  also.  Such  a  state- 
ment must  be  carefully  scrutinized.  Various  kinds 
of  people  have  imagined  that  they  owned  the  world, 
but  somehow  it  always  slipped  out  of  their  uncer- 
tain grasp.  Our  very  myths,  and  even  history 
itself,  are  shot  through  with  the  claims  of  fictitious 
world-owners.  In  childhood  we  hear  of  Midas  and 
Croesus;  of  the  world-conquerors,  Alexander, 
Caesar,  and  Napoleon;  of  the  kings  of  finance, 
whose  morning-steps  in  Wall  Street  shake  the  mar- 
kets of  the  world  before  sundown.  On  the  other 
hand,  we  are  familiar  with  another  type  of  world- 
owner  today.  His  claims  are  blatantly  pressed  in 
many  quarters.  He  is  the  Judas  among  the  apos- 
tles of  labour.  He  says :  "  Everything  belongs  to 
the  working  man;  he  is  the  only  creator  of  wealth; 
therefore,  let  him  take  a  stick  of  dynamite  and  claim 
his  own."  But  it  is  scarcely  worth  while  to  say 
that  neither  Croesus,  nor  the  tyrant,  nor  the  an- 
archist has  any  permanent  or  true  claims  to  world- 
ownership.  Both  in  theory  and  practice  they  are 
its  abject  slaves. 

Well,  then,  have  Paul  and  his  fellow-Christians 
any  deeper,  juster  reasons  for  saying :  "  Million- 
aires, kings,  and  revolutionists  may  come  and  go, 
but  I  go  on  forever;  and  whether  I  go  or  come,  the 


lU        THE    CHRISTIAN'S    WEALTH 

world  is  mine  ?  "     I  think  there  is  an  afifirmative 
answer  to  this  proposition  which  is  self-evident.    It 
is  the  ultimate  philosophy  of  all  possession  worthy 
of  the  name.    What  is  that  philosophy?    You  know 
,-  the  answer  before  I  express  it  in  a  single  sentence: 
,^  World-ownership  is  a  matter  of  spiritual  capacity. 
j^'^*  It   is   just   this — nothing  more,   but   nothing  less. 

Stripped  of  all  externals,  and  bared  to  the  bone, 
the  true  owner  of  the  world  is  the  soul  capable  of 
appreciating  it;  the  mind  that  receives  the  expres- 
sion of  the  Eternal  Mind  within  the  world  and  the 
universe;  the  heart  that  responds  to  the  quivering 
Heart  of  Love  beating  His  music  out  in  stars  and 
birds  and  babes  and  sages. 

Sometimes  I  go  into  a  great  auditorium  to  hear 
the  wonderful  organ  music.  Who  is  the  real  owner 
of  that  instrument?  "Why,"  you  say,  ''the  mer- 
chant-prince whose  money  made  it  possible.  The 
building  is  his;  his  money  paid  the  manufacturer  for 
installing  the  organ;  his  money  hires  the  organist." 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  your  answer  is  true  so  far  as 
it  goes,  but  it  does  not  go  very  far,  certainly  not  far 
enough.  The  deeper  ownership — the  ownership  that 
abides  after  auditorium,  organ  pipes,  and  keyboard 
are  dust  blown  about  the  iron  hills — is  vested  in  the 
melody-haunted  soul.  It  may  be  in  the  organist 
himself;  it  may  be  in  some  friendless,  homeless, 
hunger-bitten  body  of  a  man  who  has  wandered  in 
to  rest  his  weary  feet;  it  may  be  in  a  Raderewski  or 
a  Hoffman,  sitting  unobserved  in  the  audience,  while 


THE    CHRISTIAN'S    WEALTH         145 

reeling  palaces  of  melody  and  chiming  towers  of 
harmony  are  built  before  the  very  eyes  of  their 
souls.  At  any  rate,  the  absolute  owner  of  the  organ, 
the  man  who  holds  an  indisputable  title-deed 
thereto,  is  the  man  most  capable  of  enjoying  the 
music.  One  day  I  went  with  some  friends  to  see 
a  Turner.  In  the  company  was  Mr.  Dabo,  the 
painter.  Coming  away  from  the  gallery,  I  asked 
two  questions.  The  first  concerned  the  picture's 
money  value.  '*  Three  hundred  thousand  dollars, 
at  least,"  was  the  answer.  My  second  question  was : 
"Who  owns  this  painting?"  If  I  remember  cor- 
rectly, neither  Mr.  Dabo  nor  Doctor  Hillis  was  quite 
certain  on  that  point.  But,  after  all,  the  dealer's 
ownership  is  of  secondary  importance.  The  origi- 
nal, the  primary  ownership  of  that  painting  belongs 
to  Turner  himself.  Storms  and  waves  and  clouds 
loved  to  linger  on  the  end  of  his  brush  long  enough 
to  see  their  living  image  caught  in  his  unfading 
colours.  All  the  art  dealers  in  Rome,  Paris,  Lon- 
don, and  New  York  cannot  dispute  J.  M.  W.  Tur- 
ner's inviolable  possession  of  that  picture.  Hounds 
of  persecution  may  dog  him  while  he  is  living,  and 
jackals  of  slander  may  howl  about  his  grave  when 
he  is  dead.  But  never  fear!  High  above  them  all, 
wrapped  in  sweet  serenity  and  hidden  from  the 
strife  of  tongues,  this  rare  soul,  true  brother  to 
nature's  calm  and  stormful  moods,  sits  whispering 
to  himself :  "  I  am  glad  to  lend  England,  America, 
and  the  world  my  pictures;  I  painted  them  for  the  ■, 


146        THE    CHRISTIAN'S    WEALTH 

glory  of  God;  I  gave  them  away  for  the  good  of 
humanity;  and,  therefore,  I  own  them;  they  are 
mine  forever." 

This  sermon  was  written  on  Mocking  Bird  Hill, 
overlooking  Louisa,  Ky.,  my  boyhood  home.  Sit- 
ting under  a  hawthorn  tree,  these  feathered  soloists 
almost  broke  up  my  sermonic  efforts.  For  the 
mocking-bird  is  a  Beethoven  on  wings,  the  Shakes- 
peare of  the  twigs,  the  Homer  of  the  atmosphere. 
He  goes  mad  with  song.  Not  only  does  his  voice 
pour  forth  a  many-strained  versatility,  embracing 
every  kind  of  sound  from  the  croak  of  a  tree-frog 
to  the  lyric  sweetness  of  the  Kentucky  cardinal; 
but  even  his  body  is  caught  in  the  current  of  his 
ecstasy,  and  he  tosses  rhythmic  somersaults  in  the  air 
while  his  golden  rain  of  song  falls  in  unbroken  tor- 
rents. Yonder  he  sits  singing  in  the  top  of  a  tree; 
in  a  moment  he  is  on  the  wing,  singing  as  he  flies; 
in  another  moment  he  is  sitting  once  again  in  a  green 
choir-loft,  still  mad  with  music,  never  pausing  in 
going  from  tree  to  tree.  The  mocker  seems  to 
think  that  life  is  too  short  not  to  be  singing  all  the 
time ;  or  else  he  has  such  fountains  of  music  in  him 
that  he  fears  he  will  never,  never  have  time  enough 
to  pour  them  all  out.  If  the  birds  ever  get  together 
and  form  a  sort  of  labour  union,  they  will  have  to 
do  without  this  Mozart  of  the  hills.  For  he  be- 
lieves in  singing  overtime.  After  he  has  sung  the 
songs  of  all  the  other  birds  all  day  long  as  well  as 
they  themselves  can  sing  them,  he  takes  up  his  own 


THE    CHRISTIAN'S   WEALTH         147 

song  at  sunset  and  lends  to  the  night  an  enchant- 
ment he  denied  to  the  day.  Well,  I  think  of  two 
possible  owners  of  this  marvellous  bird.  One  is  a 
bird-seller.  Mail  him  a  check  for  $15  and  he  will 
send  you  a  singer  up  from  the  southland.  And  is  he 
not  the  bird's  rightful  owner?  "  Certainly  I  am,"  he 
says.  "I  caught  him;  he  is  my  property;  I  have 
the  right  to  do  as  I  please  with  him."  But  there 
was  once  a  man  down  in  the  forests  of  Louisiana 
by  the  name  of  Audubon.  He  lived  in  those  woods 
year  after  year.  He  understood  not  only  the  anat- 
omy of  this  bird;  but  he  knew  his  habits,  his  social 
qualities,  his  romances,  his  tragedies,  his  devotion 
to  his  winged  partner.  Audubon  loved  the  mocking- 
bird and  heard  him  sing  in  his  native  haunts. 
Therefore,  he  has  written  about  him  as  enthusias- 
tically as  the  wooer  sings  his  own  dropping-song  in 
the  delirious  period  of  his  honeymoon. 

Who  owns  the  bird  songs  of  the  hills — the  mere 
merchant  or  the  true  naturalist?  Who  owns  the 
world — Nero  or  Paul,  C^sar  or  Christ?  Long  ago 
the  dead  hand  of  the  Roman  relaxed  its  impossible 
grasp,  while  the  living  power  of  Christ  and  Paul 
waxes  with  the  centuries,  never  to  wane.  God 
leases  the  universe  to  all  who  can  pay  for  it  in  the 
invisible  coin  of  appreciation.  Deity  hangs  in  the 
window  of  every  star,  on  the  breast  of  every  sea, 
on  the  summit  of  every  hill,  on  the  leaf  of  every 
tree,  on  the  face  of  every  flower,  on  the  peaks  of 
history,  on  the  souls  of  immortal  men  and  women, 


148        THE    CHRISTIAN'S    WEALTH 

the  sign:  ''To  Let!  The  only  rental  fee  is  ca- 
pacity to  enjoy.  The  many-splendoured  universe  is 
now  open  for  inspection.  The  ancient,  ever-faithful 
guide  named  Love  will  conduct  you.  He  accepts  no 
*  tips/  but  he  rigidly  demands  the  power  of  appre- 
ciation." This  highest  ownership  is  well  illustrated 
in  Emerson's  address  on  Thoreau.  Farmers  hired 
the  naturalist  to  survey  their  lands.  But  when  they 
discovered  his  rare  accuracy  and  skill,  his  knowl- 
edge of  Indian  remains,  birds,  trees,  and  soils,  which 
enabled  him  to  disclose  to  every  farmer  more  than 
he  knew  of  his  own  acres,  Emerson  says  the  farmer 
began  to  feel  as  if  Mr.  Thoreau  had  better  rights 
in  his  fields  than  he.  Nero  owned  the  Golden  House 
and  shod  his  mules  with  silver.  Then  Paul  came 
with  his  true  measuring  line,  adding  the  Golden 
House,  then  Rome,  then  the  world,  then  the  uni- 
verse to  his  Mamertine  prison,  the  observatory  from 
which  he  viewed  thrones  and  dominions  and  princi- 
paHties  and  powers.  In  due  time  Nero  and  his 
myrmidons  were  dispossessed.  History  has  vindi- 
cated Paul's  claims,  while  the  emperor's  handful 
of  dust  has  gone  swirling  down  the  bleak  spaces  of 
oblivion.  Are  you  a  Christian?  Then  the  world 
is  yours,  because — 

"  The  world  stands  out  on  either  side 
No  wider  than  the  heart  is  wide; 
Above  the  world  is  stretched  the  sky, — 
No  higher  than  the  soul  is  high.     , 
The  heart  can  push  the  sea  and  land 
Farther  away  on  either  hand; 


THE    CHRISTIAN'S   WEALTH         149 

The  soul  can  split  the  sky  in  two, 
And  let  the  face  of  God  shine  through. 
But  East  and  West  will  pinch  the  heart 
That  cannot  keep  them  pushed  apart; 
And  he  whose  soul  is  flat — the  sky 
Will  cave  in  on  him  by  and  by." 

Ill 
In  itemizing  the  Christian's  wealth,  Paul  includes 
what  is  at  once  man's  most  precious,  most  mysteri- 
ous gift — life.  What  is  life?  Who  can  define  it? 
Manifestations  of  life  are  everywhere.  Here  is 
this  clover  bloom  at  my  feet;  life  has  put  on  a  pink 
crown.  Yonder  is  a  cow  munching  the  grass;  the 
same  Hfe  that  wears  pink  here  has  put  on  yellow 
there.  There  on  the  hill-summit  is  a  company  of 
tall,  evergreen  pines.  Each  tree  is  a  bugle  for  the 
morning  wind  to  try  its  breath  on.  A  few  hundred 
yards  below  the  pines,  a  hound  is  tracking  a  rabbit. 
In  the  tree,  life  has  broken  into  root,  cone,  branch, 
twig;  in  the  dog,  the  very  same  life  has  put  on 
bones,  flesh,  blood,  hair.  I  am  sitting  on  a  stone. 
It  was  very  old  when  civilization  along  the  Nile  was 
yet  in  its  infancy.  From  the  stone,  I  see  the  sun 
tiptoeing  over  the  West  Virginia  hills.  The  sun 
is  ninety- five  millions  of  miles  away;  the  stone  is 
so  near  that  I  touch  it  with  my  hand;  but  life — the 
same  identical,  mystery-laden  life — has  taken  on 
brightness  in  the  sun  while  it  has  assumed  hardness 
in  the  stone.  Here  on  this  weed  is  a  butterfly,  es- 
caped from  its  chrysaHs-prison  into  quivering  seas 
of  sapphire.     Its  colourings  are  so  gorgeous  that 


150        THE    CHRISTIAN'S    WEALTH 

that  supreme  artist,  the  sun,  shakes  his  burning 
curls  with  pride  and  says :  "  Well,  I  have  done  my 
best!  "  Now  the  butterfly  has  left  the  weed  and  is 
poised  upon  the  small  apple  of  this  hawthorn  tree. 
Yet  the  life  that  goes  winging  in  velvet  and  purple 
is  also  the  life  that  goes  clinging  in  unpretentious 
weed  and  applegreen  haw.  There  goes  an  ant  across 
the  grass.  Darwin  thinks  his  brain  represents  the 
most  marvellous  speck  of  matter  in  the  universe. 
Just  over  my  head  a  spider  is  spinning  his  web.  He 
is  one  of  the  rare  creatures  who  can  walk  out  into 
space  and  build  his  bridge  as  he  goes.  But  the  same 
life  that  expresses  itself  in  the  wisdom  of  the  ant 
is  one  with  the  life  that  manifests  itself  in  the  in- 
genuity of  the  spider.  Life  has  millions  of  varia- 
tions, but  its  tune  is  one.  Before  science  began  its 
great  career,  Paul  thus  expressed  the  principle  of 
life's  unity  in  its  infinite  variety:  *' One  God  and 
Father  of  all,  who  is  over  all,  and  through  all,  and 
in  all."  Professor  Carruth's  poem,  **  Immanence," 
is  based  upon  this  passage : 

"  A  fire-mist  and  a  planet, 

A  crystal  and  a  cell, 
A  jelly-fish  and  a  saurian. 

And  caves,  where  the  cavemen  dwell. 
Then  a  sense  of  law  and  beauty, 

And  a  face  turned  from  the  clod; 
Some  call  it  Evolution, 

And  others  call  it  God. 

A  haze  on  the  far  horizon, 
The  infinite,  tender  sky, 


THE    CHRISTIAN'S   WEALTH        151 

The  ripe,  rich  tint  of  the  cornfields 

And  the  wild  birds  sailing  by ; 
And,  all  over  upland  and  lowland, 

The  charm  of  the  golden  rod: 
Some  of  us  call  it  Autumn, 

But  others  call  it   God. 

A  picket,  frozen  on  duty, 

A  mother,  starved  for  her  brood; 
Socrates,  drinking  the  hemlock, 

And  Jesus  on  the  rood; 
The  million  who,  humble  and  nameless, 

The  straight,  hard  pathway  plod : 
Some  call  it  Consecration, 

And  others  call  it  God. 

Earth  redeemed  and  made  glorious, 

Lighted  by  Heaven  within ; 
Men  and  angels  brought  face  to  face. 

With  never  a  thought  of  sin; 
Lion  and  lamb  together  lie 

In  the  flowers  that  sweeten  the  sod; 
Some  of  us  call  it  Brotherhood, 

And  others  call  it  God." 

Life's  highest  tones,  of  course,  are  heard  in  its 
moral  and  spiritual  aspects.  From  the  deep-domed 
heavens  of  the  soul  alone  may  human  beings  look 
down  upon  all  the  lower  ranges  of  life  and  call 
them  good.  Then  do  we  understand,  with  Agassiz, 
that  a  natural  law  is  as  sacred  as  a  moral  principle; 
and  with  Coleridge,  how  truths,  which  lie  bedrid- 
den in  the  dormitory  of  the  mind  side  by  side  with 
the  most  despised  and  exploded  errors,  catch  fire, 
spring  to  their  feet,  and  run  through  the  length  and 
breadth  of  creation,  shouting:  "  This  is  my  Father's 


15^        THE    CHRISTIAN'S    WEALTH 

world.  Life — deep,  boundless,  abundant  life  in 
Christ  Jesus — is  mine.  Unaffrighted  by  the  silent 
stars  above  me,  undismayed  by  the  silent  graves 
below  me,  out  of  the  Deep  I  came  and  into  the  Deep 
I  go,  befriended,  soothed,  and  deathlessly  nourished 
by  life,  which  is  the  ever-present  goodness  and  love 
of  God." 

IV 

Paul  strikes  no  loftier  note  in  his  sphere-music 
than  in  his  ownership  of  death.  Most  people  act 
as  if  they  belonged  to  death  and  his  strong  box 
named  a  hole  in  the  ground.  Two  thousand  years 
of  New  Testament  teaching,  reenforced  by  the 
power  of  the  living  Christ,  have  failed  to  lift  multi- 
tudes of  professing  Christians  above  such  a  view- 
point. They  emphasize  the  grotesque,  pagan,  physi- 
cal phases  of  death;  but  Christ  puts  the  emphasis 
upon  the  kind  of  death  that  is  truly  terrible — the 
death  spiritual.  Men  greatly  fear  the  death  of  their 
bodies,  which  is  as  natural  as  the  fading  of  a  leaf 
or  the  withering  of  a  flower,  and  give  as  little  heed 
to  their  dead  souls  as  an  animal  does  to  the  star- 
hung  firmament.  Physical  death,  according  to  Mar- 
tineau,  is  God's  method  of  colonization,  the  means 
by  which  He  brings  Home  his  children  out  of  all 
ages  and  climes.  Euripides  regarded  death  as  the 
awakening  to  eternal  life.  Or  we  may  think  of  man 
as  enjoying  a  three-fold  birth.  Firsts  he  comes 
through  the  wondrous  gateway  of  birth  into  this 


THE    CHRISTIAN'S   WEALTH         153 

world.  He  knows  nothing  of  his  journey  here;  he 
is  no  more  responsible  for  it  than  he  is  for  the 
creation  of  the  constellations.  But  ignorant,  irre- 
sponsible, helpless  as  he  is,  he  finds  a  world  ready 
for  his  reception.  There  is  atmosphere  for  his 
womb-formed  lungs,  light  for  his  eyes,  sound  for 
his  ears,  food  for  his  body,  and,  last  of  all,  the  en- 
clasping arms  of  maternal  love.  Infinite  prepara- 
tion has  been  made  for  his  reception.  As  quaint, 
deep-souled  George  Herbert  sang,  for  him  the  winds 
do  blow,  rains  fall,  moons  rise,  suns  set;  all  forces 
and  laws  are  for  him;  he  could  not  get  on  with  an 
atom  less  nor  a  star  more.  The  whole  universe, 
says  Alfred  Russel  Wallace,  has  been  created  and 
is  sustained  in  the  interest  of  human  life.  Moses, 
and  other  prophets,  said  the  same  thousands  of  years 
before,  and  it  is  interesting  to  hear  this  great  scien- 
tist repeating  what  the  deepest  consciousness  of  the 
race  has  felt.  But  after  awhile  this  star-reaching 
being  climbs  over  the  sides  of  his  cradle  and  begins 
to  scale  the  cliffs  of  worlds.  Stifled  for  breath, 
cramped  for  room,  hungry  for  the  infinite,  he  goes 
climbing  up  and  on.  What  troubles  this  mystery- 
creature?  Why,  he  is  just  aching  for  his  new  and 
second  birth.  Looking  to  the  Christ  of  God,  he  is 
born  again.  Thus  the  man-child  kicks  ofif  his  ma- 
terial covering,  leaps  out  of  his  narrow  bed,  runs 
up  the  hills  of  life  and  views  the  far-flung,  shining 
lands  of  God.  Passing  through  his  second  gate 
with  the  zeal  of  an  athlete  and  the  shout  of  a  con- 


154        THE    CHRISTIAN'S    WEALTH 

queror,  he  knocks  at  last  at  his  third  gateway — the 
grave.  In  autumn  the  farmer  husks  his  corn  that 
he  may  garner  the  golden  grain.  But  is  the  farmer 
the  corn's  enemy  ?  Stripping  off  the  husk,  is  he  not 
both  friend  and  saviour?  Not  otherwise  is  death 
God's  husbandman,  husking  the  human  corn  for 
sky-granaries;  man's  true  friend,  giving  his  body 
back  to  the  dust  and  setting  free  his  soul.  Stand- 
ing by  six  feet  of  turf,  the  Christian  says :  "  O 
grave,  where  is  thy  victory?  Since  my  Saviour 
hath  plucked  out  thy  sin-sting,  O  death,  thou  hast 
lost  thy  terror.  Ah,  dear  green  grave  in  the  sod, 
thou  art  my  friend  and  servant.  All  things  work 
together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God,  and  thou 
art  my  last  faithful  worker  in  this  world.  O  death, 
thou,  too,  art  mine!  Come  when  thou  wilt,  thou 
art  Heaven's  angel-sent  courier  to  conduct  me  to 
Him  who  hath  destroyed  death,  and  brought  life  and 
immortality  to  light." 


Finally,  Paul  rounds  out  the  Christian's  wealth 
by  saying  that  now  and  forever  belong  to  him — 
*'  things  present  or  things  to  come."  The  words 
thunder  with  warning  and  thrill  with  hope.  The 
warning  is  this :  Things  to  come  are  yours  only  if 
you  make  wise  use  of  things  present.  Browning's 
injunction  to  leave  now  to  dogs  and  apes  because 
man  has  forever,  is  grievously  abused.-  It  is  worse 
than  folly  to  waste  unreturning  to-days  and  imag- 


THE    CHRISTIAN'S   WEALTH         155 

ine  that  we  shall  recover  their  treasure  in  far-off 
unknown  to-morrows.  The  years  and  days  of  time 
are  so  precious  that  eternity  cannot  reproduce  their 
like.  Silently,  swiftly  they  go,  to  return  no  more; 
but  they  do  not  leave  us  as  they  found  us.  Here 
and  now  we  give  character  its  trend  and  destiny  our 
verdict.  Neither  God  nor  angels  can  compel  us  to 
begin  the  business  of  life  in  another  world  on  any 
larger  spiritual  capital  than  we  were  willing  to  carry 
in  this.  "  But,"  you  reply,  "  I  will  be  better  then, 
loving  what  God  loves  and  hating  what  God  hates." 
But  if  you  are  not  growing  better  now,  what  right 
have  you  to  think  you  will  be  better  then  ?  "  But 
I  will  have  more  light  then."  Of  what  benefit  will 
more  light  be,  when  you  have  turned  the  light  you 
have  into  darkness?  Would  not  more  light,  under 
such  conditions,  be  more  darkness,  more  hell  ?  The 
only  way  to  mortgage  the  future  is  by  underwriting 
to-day  by  love  and  service  and  worship. 

Doing  this,  you  shall  have  the  courage  of  the 
future — things  to  come,  the  power  of  the  endless 
life,  shall  begin  now  to  certify  their  value  to  you. 
**  But,"  you  ask,  '^  how  am  I  to  get  this  courage 
of  the  future,  born  of  my  ownership  of  things  to 
come  ?  "  I  answer :  By  living  well  to-day,  by 
loyalty  to  things  present.  A  picture  direct  from 
life  may  help  you.  I  watched  a  bird  building  her 
nest  on  the  strong  arm  of  an  oak  tree.  Away  she 
flew,  now  up  the  valley,  now  across  the  fields,  now 
over  the  hills,  always  returning  with  a  piece  of  rag, 


156        THE    CHRISTIAN'S    WEALTH 

a  bit  of  horse-hair,  a  sprig  of  grass,  which  she  wove 
into  her  home.  As  she  worked  away,  I  said  to  her : 
''  You  poor,  foolish  bird.  What  are  you  building 
that  nest  for?  You  have  nothing  to  put  into  it." 
Gazing  at  me  with  a  far-away,  wistful  look,  she 
seemed  to  answer :  "  Never  you  mind,  short- 
sighted man.  God  never  disappoints  his  creatures. 
Somewhere  in  this  universe — I  feel  it  in  my  moth- 
ering heart — something  is  waiting  to  fill  my  nest." 
So  she  kept  on  building  day  by  day.  One  morning 
I  saw  her  flash  across  the  fields  on  expectant  wings. 
Missing  her  for  several  days,  I  said :  *'  She  is  gone 
now,  and  will  never  come  back."  But  before 
a  week  had  gone,  I  heard  a  sudden  noise  of  wings 
in  the  branches  of  the  old  oak.  Looking  up,  I  saw 
the  golden-breasted  home-builder  and — her  gallant 
lover !  A  few  days  later  I  climbed  the  tree,  peeped 
into  the  nest,  and  lo !  there  were  three  speckled  eggs 
in  it.  Then  for  several  days  I  watched  the  brood- 
ing mother,  patient  as  fate,  upon  her  nest.  Day 
by  day  and  night  by  night  she  kept  watch  above  her 
own.  Well,  I  went  away  and  returned  in  late  July. 
I  looked  at  the  nest,  but  it  was  empty.  "  Just  as  I 
expected,"  I  said  to  myself,  keenly  disappointed. 
"  I  knew  all  along  that  that  bird  was  very  foolish 
for  building  a  nest."  Just  then  I  heard  a  burst  of 
song!  It  was  the  mother  talking  to  her  husband 
about  their  three  beautiful  fledglings.  But  when 
she  spied  me,  she  said :  *'  Mr.  Man,  did  I  not  tell 
you  that  God  had  something  for  my  home?     He 


THE    CHRISTIAN'S   WEALTH         157 

whispered  me  in  the  ear,  and  even  then  I  heard  the 
twitter  within  my  unbuilt,  songless  nest.  At  once 
I  began  to  build;  I  went  out,  not  knowing  whither 
I  went,  a  prophet  on  wings,  and  lo !  God  hath  more 
than  kept  His  promise.  Let  me  present  to  you  my 
son  and  two  daughters." 

Among  other  things,  that  mother-bird  has  taught 
me  the  courage  of  the  future.  And  that  courage  is 
born  in  the  Master's  thought  and  teaching.  "  Are 
not  two  sparrows  sold  for  a  farthing?  and  one  of 
them  shall  not  fall  on  the  ground  without  your 
Father."  What  insight,  what  care,  what  love, 
He  says,  have  gone  into  the  making  of  the 
lowHest  creatures!  Now  hear  His  golden  con- 
clusion :  "  But  the  very  hairs  of  your  head  are  all 
numbered !  Fear  ye  not  therefore,  ye  are  of  more 
value  than  many  sparrows."  God  knoweth  the 
way  we  take,  and  He  takes  us  along  the  way.  There 
are  no  lone  coasts  where  He  is  not.  He  dwells  in 
and  beyond  the  pathless  air  to  guide  you  and  the 
bird.  The  wings  of  the  morning  are  not  strong 
enough  to  pinion  you  away  from  His  hovering 
Presence.  Wherefore,  glory  not  in  men,  but  in  the 
wealth  which  God  hath  given  you.  For  all  things 
are  yours,  whether  Paul,  or  Apollos,  or  Cephas,  or 
the  world,  or  life,  or  death,  or  things  present,  or 
things  to  come.  All  are  yours;  and  ye  are  Christ's; 
and  Christ  is  God's. 

"  No  matter  what  my  birth  may  be, 
No  matter  where  my  lot  is  cast, 


158        THE    CHRISTIAN'S    WEALTH 

I  am  the  heir  in  equity 
Of  all  the  precious  past. 

The  art,  the  science,  and  the  lore 
Of  all  the  ages  long  since  dust, 

The  wisdom  of  the  world  in  store. 
Are  mine,  all  mine  in  trust. 

The  beauty  of  the  living  earth, 
The  power  of  the  golden  sun, 

The  Present,  whatso'er  my  birth, 
I  share  with  every  one. 

As  much  as  any  man  am  I 
The  owner  of  the  working  day; 

Mine  are  the  minutes  as  they  fly 
To  save  or  throw  away. 

And  mine  the  Future  to  bequeath 
Unto   the   generations   new; 

I  help  to  shape  it  with  my  breath, 
Mine  as  I  think  or  do. 

Present  and  Past  my  heritage, 
The  Future  laid  in  my  control; — 

No  matter  what  my  name  or  age, 
I  am  a  Christian  soul." 


THE  FINAL  CANDOUR 

"For  nothing  is  hid,  that  shall  not  be  made  manifest;  nor 
anything  secret,  that  shall  not  be  known  and  come  to  light." 
— St.  Luke  viii  :  17. 

THIS  is  our  Lord's  way  of  saying  that  we  live 
in  a  transparent  universe.  Apparently,  just 
the  opposite  is  true.  So  many  curtains  of 
enigma,  rustlingly  blown  by  the  winds  of  mystery, 
tremble  before  our  gaze,  that  we  sometimes  despair 
of  discerning  clarity,  intention,  purposefulness  in 
the  trend  of  things.  The  darkness  seems  deep  and 
permanent  while  the  light  seems  superficial  and 
transient.  The  gloom  is  steadfast,  the  gleam  is 
fitful;  sin  is  glaringly  triumphant,  righteousness  is 
modestly  unassertive;  distintegrating  doubt  is  ob- 
stinate, constructive  faith  is  difficult  to  practise.  Is 
not  this  a  familiar  reading  of  the  world  ?  Unques- 
tionably it  is,  and  it  is  essentially  untrue.  For  de- 
spite the  apparent  meaninglessnesses  of  life,  there 
is  a  profound,  universal,  unceasingly  active,  shaping 
power  that  makes  for  order,  for  righteousness,  for 
the  realization  of  the  one  increasing  purpose  which 
runs  from  everlasting  to  everlasting.  In  a  word, 
Christ  says  that  the  principle  of  self-revelation  is 

159 


160  THE    FINAL    CANDOUR 

ingrained  in  the  universe,  in  history,  in  things,  in 
men.  All  are  out  on  a  campaign  of  ultimate,  noon- 
clear  publicity.  There  is  a  final  candour  at  the  heart 
of  things.  The  hidden  evil  and  the  hidden  goodness 
are  alike  marching  toward  manifestation.  There 
can  be  no  permanent  secrets  in  a  scheme  of  things 
whose  genius  is  detection  and  publication.  "  For 
nothing  is  hid,"  says  the  Master,  "  that  shall  not  be 
made  manifest;  nor  anything  secret,  that  shall  not 
be  known  and  come  to  light."  Thus  the  law  of  the 
final  candour  operates  toward  sin  and  holiness,  false- 
hood and  truth,  hate  and  love — every  nook  and 
cranny  of  being  is  searched  out  and  published  with- 
out sensation,  but  with  solemn  truth,  to  the  whole 
round  world. 


Let  us  begin  with  the  candour  of  thought.  What 
could  be  more  hidden,  less  possible  of  manifestation, 
than  thinking?  Where  does  thought  come  from 
anyway  ?  What  is  it  ?  How  did  thought  originate  ? 
We  say,  knowing  little  enough  about  such  high 
things,  that  first  of  all  there  was  a  Thinker.  But 
the  Infinite  Thinker  does  not  conceal  His  thought. 
Given  the  Eternal  Thinker,  His  thinking  starts  out 
at  once  upon  the  highways  of  manifestation.  God 
thinks,  and  in  due  time  there  are  multitudinous 
thinkings,  which  we  thoughtlessly  call  things.  The 
most  wonderful  feature  of  suns  and  planets  is  not 
their  size,  their  distance,  their  inconceivable  age. 


THE    FINAL    CANDOUR  161 

The  astonishing  thing  is  that  each  is  the  expressed 
thought  of  God,  that  each  is  a  thought  of  Deity 
burst  into  brilHant  bloom.  Worlds  are  first  thought 
through,  and  then  they  begin  to  clothe  themselves 
in  matter.  They  cannot  but  manifest  that  which 
was  originally  hidden — the  thought  preceding  their 
creation.  Thus  it  is  throughout  the  whole  of  things, 
from  the  minutest  to  the  largest,  from  the  greatest 
to  the  infinitesimal.  Things  are  alive  with  life,  and 
life  is  alive  with  thought,  purpose,  goal.  The  nerves 
of  the  universe  are  tingling  to  manifest  their  hid- 
den thought-energies.  Look  up  at  night,  and  what 
do  you  see?  Stars?  Yes;  but  stars  are  only  golden 
buds  hanging  upon  the  tree  of  thought.  The  roots 
of  that  tree  are  sunken  deep  in  the  mind  of  God. 
The  divine  thought  thrilled  up  through  those  roots, 
pumping  life  into  trunk  and  bough,  and  now,  after 
a  million  celestial  springs,  these  astral  apples  have 
reddened  upon  the  unseen  branches  of  the  tree  of 
thought.  Or  look  down  here  at  the  ground.  It  is 
cold  and  bleak  and  bare.  But  go  out  in  April,  and 
the  desolation  floats  a  delicate  flag  of  frail  green. 
Now,  if  that  tender  grass-blade  could  talk — or 
rather,  if  you  could  hear,  it  does  talk — would  it  not 
say :  "  The  fiery-hearted  sun  sweated  in  shaping 
me.  Night  unvested  her  mooned  and  starry  bosom 
to  suckle  me.  Heaven  yearned  toward  me  in  weep- 
ing rain,  and  all  her  mothering  pinions  were 
stretched  over  my  little  cradle.  She  slaved  for  my 
welfare.     Thunders  and  lightnings  and  winds  and 


162  THE    FINAL    CANDOUR 

seas  have  toiled  to  feed  me.  The  strength  of 
Nature's  pregnant  thews  have  stooped  to  honour  my 
frail  majesty.  Epitomized  in  me  is  the  mystery 
of  the  solar  system — '  God  focussed  to  a  point.'  " 
You  see,  God's  thoughts  burn  through  all  the  folds 
of  expression,  whether  it  is  a  Jupiter  patrolling  the 
confines  of  space  or  a  grass-blade  humming  its 
vernal  music  at  your  feet.  The  divine  thought  can- 
not be  hidden  because  its  inmost  genius  is  mani- 
festation. Give  God  time,  and  the  universe,  which 
has  been  thought  through,  will  manifest  the  per- 
fection of  the  One  Original  Thinker.  Give  God 
time,  and  human  redemption,  which  was  kept  secret 
from  before  times  eternal,  shall  be  fully  known  and 
come  into  that  glorious  light  in  Whom  there  is  no 
darkness  at  all. 

Now,  because  of  this  wide-ranging  principle, 
consider  the  candour  of  thought  in  its  human  as- 
pects. Here  is  a  man  who  thinks  black.  His 
thoughts  are  soaked  with  darkness,  dyed  in  thick, 
tangled  glooms  of  inky  night.  Undoubtedly  the 
mystery  of  iniquity  is  seen  in  such  an  example. 
But  the  iniquity  is  not  all.  Another  mys- 
tery is  this:  The  man  fooHshly  imagines 
that  his  thoughts  are  hidden  and  secret,  that 
they  shall  never  be  known  and  come  to  light.  Such 
self-deception  is  a  part  of  sin's  awful  tragedy.  For 
if  the  man  were  keenly  aware  that  his  thoughts  are 
wide  open  to  inherent  and  universal  Scrutiny,  that 
his  dusky  imaginings  are  flying  toward  the  light, 


THE    FINAL   CANDOUR         163 

perhaps  he  would  not  play  out  his  stupid  ostrich 
antics  with  such  unblushing  audacity.  *'  The  habits 
of  the  mind  form  the  soul,"  said  Balzac,  "  and  the 
soul  gives  expression  to  the  face."  In  other  words, 
the  face  is  the  visible  map  of  the  invisible  mind. 
Dark  thoughts  stain  through  the  whitest  features. 
How  sad  that  we  do  not  believe  this !  Disregarding 
it,  men  and  women  go  on  thinking  untrue,  unholy 
thoughts,  imagining  all  the  while  that  they  are 
cloaked  in  densest  concealment.  They  are,  in  reality, 
the  pathetic  victims  of  the  law  of  the  final  can- 
dour. 

Happily,  there  is  a  nobler  side  to  all  this.  For 
man  was  never  designed  to  think  black,  but  white. 
Our  thoughts  are  sheep  and  we  are  their  shepherds. 
Armed  with  rod  and  staff,  we  must  lead  our  mystic 
thought-flocks  up  into  the  green  pastures  of  nour- 
ishing reality.  Threading  the  higher  ranges  of 
being,  we  shall  constantly  hear  the  still  waters  of 
peace  murmuring  all  around  us.  When  some  wolf 
of  untruth,  some  roaring  lion  of  impurity  springs 
out  of  the  hidden  lair.  He  who  shepherds  our 
changes — that  Great  Shepherd  of  the  sheep — shall 
lend  us  strength  to  smite  our  enemy  down,  as  we 
guard  our  white  and  precious  fold  from  polluting 
taint.  Where  is  there  a  lovelier,  finer  vision  than 
that  of  the  fair  company  of  mental  good  shepherds, 
who  have  led  their  flocks  of  thoughts  forth  to  graze 
upon  the  shining  pasturelands  of  truth,  and  to  feed 
upon  the  gleaming  hilltops  of  the  spiritual?    Moses 


164         THE    FINAL    CANDOUR 

returned  from  Sinai's  smoke  and  fire  garbed  in 
supernal  lustres.  His  personality  threw  off  spiritual 
heat  and  light.  The  people  were  afraid  to  come 
near  him.  The  majesty  of  law  flowered  out  in  the 
lawgiver's  face.  When  lofty  thinking  puts  on  flesh 
and  blood,  it  signifies  that  eternity  has  broken  in 
upon  time,  that  divinity  has  cut  through  our  hard 
human  moulds  and  transfigured  them.  John,  Peter, 
Paul,  Stephen,  and  a  noble  company  of  the  higher 
thinkers,  have  revealed  the  vast  spiritual  zones  in 
which  we  immortals  are  privileged  to  travel.  Un- 
der God,  and  led  by  Christ,  they  have  broken  eter- 
nal trails,  they  have  pioneered  pathless  realms,  they 
have  turned  the  great  unknown  into  the  alluringly 
homelike,  building  therein  a  heavenful  fireside  about 
which  pilgrims  gather  and  talk  of  the  joys  and 
sorrows  of  their  journey.  The  clean,  deep  splen- 
dour of  eternity  is  at  their  heart.  Standing  face 
to  face  with  God,  walking  His  way,  thinking  His 
thoughts,  the  grace  and  beauty  of  their  souls  now 
shine  upon  us  like  sunlight  behind  a  flower.  Find- 
ing earth  unclear,  they  left  it  in  the  brothering  grip 
of  an  ever-growing  transparency.  The  bigness  of 
their  lives  and  the  richness  of  their  service  blos- 
somed out  of  this  principle  that  nothing  can  be  ulti- 
mately hid,  that  everything  reaches  toward  mani- 
festation; that  every  secret  thing  shall  be  known 
and  come  to  light. 


THE    FINAL   CANDOUR         165 

II 

The  law  of  final  candour  also  finds  interpre- 
tation in  our  words.  The  least  expressive  part  of  a 
man  may  be  his  tongue,  and  yet  his  tongue  is  a 
serious  instrument  of  expression.  If  we  always 
remembered  this,  we  might  think  more  clearly  and 
speak  less  fluently.  Certainly  our  words  are  im- 
bedded deep  in  the  soul  of  things.  The  Master, 
who  passed  external  nature  by  in  his  eagerness  to 
reach  the  inner  shrine  of  being  and  declare  the 
truth  by  which  the  worlds  move,  tremendously  em- 
phasized the  seriousness  of  human  words.  He  said 
that  men  must  give  an  account  for  every  idle,  hurt- 
ful word  they  speak.  The  dictophone  is  being  used 
today  with  startling  effect.  Men  go  into  a  closed 
room  and  unfold  their  nefarious  schemes.  Foul 
deeds  and  political  corruption  are  discussed  with 
brazen  frankness.  And  lo!  it  turns  out  that  those 
four  dumb  walls  were  alive  with  mechanical  ears. 
The  tones  of  the  speaker's  voice,  the  very  words 
he  used  in  expressing  his  shadowy  thoughts,  are 
caught  up  and  in  open  court  come  back  into  the 
cringing  criminal's  own  mouth.  Now,  the  universe 
is  one  colossal  dictophone.  We  do  not  know  how 
it  operates.  Our  thought  and  discovery  are  as  yet 
in  their  infancy  concerning  such  far-reaching  laws. 
But  that  there  is  a  spiritual  system,  infinitely  more 
subtle  than  wireless  waves  or  anything  within  the 
compass    of    man's    device,    registering    thoughts, 


166         THE    FINAL    CANDOUR 

words,  and  deeds,  there  is  not  the  slightest  doubt. 
Scientists  say  that  we  can  do  almost  anything  with 
matter,  except  to  change  its  mass  or  quantity.  We 
can  alter  its  form,  density,  temperature,  state  of 
aggregation;  but  we  cannot  alter  its  mass.  What 
if  this  mighty  revolving  cylinder  of  matter,  as  mys- 
terious as  spirit,  capable  of  endless  modification,  in- 
capable of  the  slightest  deviation,  should  possess  a 
more  than  waxlike  sensitiveness  that  catches  our 
words  and  holds  them  until  the  day  when  the  se- 
crets of  all  hearts  shall  be  revealed?  If  I  cannot 
raise  my  arm  without  troubling  a  star;  if  I  cannot 
make  the  slightest  movement  without  jarring  the 
whole  of  nature;  if  I  cannot  toss  a  stone  into  the 
sea  without  stirring  the  deep  from  the  hugest  bil- 
low to  the  smallest  wavelet,  it  is  just  possible  that 
I  cannot  speak  a  word  that  does  not  go  on  singing 
or  sobbing,  blessing  or  blighting,  inspiring  or  insult- 
ing, praying  or  blaspheming,  to  the  utmost  marge 
of  the  world,  to  the  attentive  ear  of  the  Judge  of 
the  quick  and  the  dead. 

What  an  incentive  to  wise  and  gracious  speech 
this  solemn  truth  should  be!  Dress  your  thought 
in  rich,  loving  words — words  dipped  in  the  heart's 
golden  pools  of  godliness — and  it  will  go  on  before 
to  proclaim  your  coming;  it  will  be  there  to  welcome 
you  into  the  snow-pure  societies  of  the  Everlasting 
Habitations.  Jean  Paul  was  wont  to  say  that  no 
day  should  close  without  a  look  at  the  stars.  Like- 
wise, no  day  should  close  without  our  speaking 


THE    FINAL    CANDOUR  167 

some  fine,  warm,  generous  word  for  God  and  men. 
Then,  when  the  stars  come  out  and  we  look  up,  we 
shall  find  them  shining  with  a  strange  new  bright- 
ness that  spills  down  into  our  inbreathing  spirits. 
"  A  wholesome  tongue  is  a  tree  of  life,"  declares 
the  wise  man.  And  the  leaves  of  that  tree,  in  all 
the  green  wonder  of  their  fragrant  words,  are  for 
the  healing  of  hurt  hearts.  Ah !  let  us  see  to  it  that 
this  lingual  tree,  rooted  in  the  soil  of  fair,  prolific 
thought,  is  frequently  shaken  as  we  go  our  pilgrim 
ways.  For  fruitful  words,  which  are  indeed  apples 
of  gold  in  pictures  of  silver,  cannot  be  hid.  They 
may  be  heedlessly  tossed  upon  the  ground  in  wanton 
neglect;  but  the  law  of  the  final  candour  shall  mani- 
fest their  unwithering  vitality;  their  secret,  inreach- 
ing  power  shall  be  known  and  come  to  light  in  that 
far-ofif  Spring  of  which  all  springs  are  the  vernal 
prophecy.  Do  you  not  remember  the  words  of 
Stevenson's  old  Mataafa  chief,  one  of  the  builders 
of  the  Road  of  the  Loving  Heart?  As  Stevenson 
lay  dead,  the  chief  came,  and,  crouching  beside  the 
body  of  the  man  who  died  with  a  thousand  stories 
still  in  his  heart,  said :  '*  I  am  only  a  poor  Samoan 
and  ignorant;  others  are  rich  and  can  give  Tusitala 
the  parting  presents  of  rich  fine  mats;  I  am  poor, 
and  can  give  nothing  this  last  day  he  receives  his 
friends.  Yet  I  am  not  afraid  to  come  and  look  the 
last  time  in  my  friend's  face,  never  to  see  him  more 
till  we  meet  with  God."  Surely,  there  is  an  ele- 
mental majesty,   an  unutterable   sublimity  in   the 


168         THE    FINAL    CANDOUR 

grand  old  Samoan's  speech!  He  was  poor;  he  was 
ignorant;  he  could  bring  no  gift  on  that  day  when 
the  dead  author  received  his  friends.  But  ah!  the 
old  chief  had  helped  to  build  the  Road  of  the  Loving 
Heart,  and  so  he  was  unafraid  to  come  and  look  into 
his  dead  friend's  face.  Would  you  be  a  builder  of 
the  Road  of  the  Loving  Heart?  Would  you  cast 
up  a  highway  for  the  coming  of  the  King?  Would 
you  be  a  planter  of  rose  bushes  instead  of  thorn 
trees?  Then  think  true  thoughts  and  speak  true 
words.  Why,  a  pure  thought,  blown  into  the  blos- 
som of  a  pure  word,  is  one  of  the  supreme  mys- 
teries of  the  world.  It  is  Hke  the  daisy,  of  which 
Mrs.  Meynell  sings  in  a  poem  that  Ruskin  pro- 
nounced the  finest  thing  he  had  seen  or  felt  in  mod- 
ern verse : 

"  Slight  as  thou  art,  thou  art  enough  to  hide 
Like  all  created  things,  secrets  from  me. 
And  stand  a  barrier  to  eternity. 

And  I,  how  can  I  praise  thee  well  and  wide 

From  where  I  dwell — upon  the  hither  side? 
Thou  little  veil  for  so  great  mystery, 
When  shall  I  penetrate  all  things  and  thee, 

And  then  look  back?    For  this  I  must  abide, 

Till  thou  shalt  grow  and  fold  and  be  unfurled 

Literally  between  me  and  the  world. 

Then  I  shall  drink  from  in  beneath  a  spring, 

And  from  a  poet's  side  shall  read  his  book. 

O  daisy  mine,  what  will  it  be  to  look 
From  God's  side  even  of  such  a  simple  thing?" 

Well,  what  would  it  be  to  read  his^  book  from 
the  poet's  side?     And  what  would  it  be  to  see  a 


THE    FINAL    CANDOUR  169 

daisy  from  God's  side?  We  cannot  say;  the  splen- 
dour of  the  thought  bHnds  us.  More  wonderful 
still,  what  would  it  be  to  see  a  white  thought,  clothed 
in  a  transparent  word,  and  wrought  into  a  loving 
act,  from  the  side  of  Infinite  Love?  We  are  not 
nimble-visioned  enough  to  trail  these  dazzling 
heights,  though  their  broad,  firm  bases  rest  in  the 
rapturous  simplicities  of  daily  life.  We  can  only 
stand  and  gaze  in  speechless  wonder.  Slight  as  it 
is,  a  dear,  soulful  word  throbs  with  the  heartbeat 
of  eternity  and  sings  with  the  music  of  the  spheres. 

Ill 

Our  acts,  like  our  thoughts  and  words,  have  their 
good  and  evil  sides.  The  deeds  done  in  the  body 
must  appear  in  the  Great  Assize.  Conduct  is  one  of 
the  ways  whereby  men  monumentalize  themselves. 
Acts  cannot  remain  hidden;  they  are  surcharged 
with  the  power  of  inevitable  manifestation.  Our 
era  is  familiar  with  the  finger-print  system.  We 
know  that  the  print  of  a  thief's  finger  on  a  door,  a 
sill,  or  even  on  a  piece  of  metal,  is  sure  to  betray 
him.  Places  touched  by  the  fingers  are  not  visible 
to  the  unaided  eye,  but  mercury  and  chalk  bring 
them  out.  Then  they  are  photographed,  taken  to  the 
experts,  who  have  the  finger-prints  of  tens  of  thou- 
sands of  criminals  filed  in  their  cabinets.  The  prints 
are  soon  duplicated  in  the  vast  collection,  and  then 
it  is  a  simple  matter  to  establish  the  identity  of  the 
law-breaker.     Our  deeds  are  the  finger-prints  that 


170  THE    FINAL    CANDOUR 

manifest  our  own  identity.  The  poised  balances  of 
God  cannot  swerve.  He  who  *'  weigheth  the  spirits  " 
also  weighs  the  deeds  of  men.  The  late  William 
James  recalled  the  way  in  which  the  drunken  Rip 
Van  Winkle,  in  Jefferson's  play,  excuses  himself 
for  every  fresh  offence  by  saying :  "  I  won't  count 
this  time."  "  Well,"  said  Professor  James,  "  he 
may  not  count  it,  and  a  kind  Heaven  may  not  count 
it;  but  it  is  being  counted  none  the  less.  Down 
among  the  nerve-cells  and  fibres  the  molecules  are 
counting  it,  registering  and  storing  it  up  against  him 
when  the  next  temptation  comes.  Nothing  we  ever 
do  is,  in  strict  scientific  literalness,  wiped  out.  Of 
course  this  has  its  good  side  as  well  as  its  bad  one. 
As  we  become  permanent  drunkards  by  so  many 
separate  drinks,  so  we  become  saints  in  the  moral, 
authorities  and  experts  in  the  practical  and  scientific 
spheres,  by  so  many  separate  acts  and  works." 

Our  truth,  then,  is  this:  Every  time  we  do  a 
bad  deed,  it  is  easier  to  do  another  bad  deed;  every 
time  we  do  a  good  deed,  it  is  easier  to  do  another 
good  deed.  It  is  difficult  to  see  how  there  could  be 
a  race  of  moral  beings  were  it  not  for  this  sov- 
ereign law.  Over  against  the  downward  pull  stands 
the  upward  urge,  and  it  is  for  us  to  choose  whether 
we  shall  plunge  to  the  depths  or  climb  to  the  heights. 
Choosing  the  right,  we  shall  discover  that  the  core 
at  the  apple  of  life  is  sweet,  and  we  may  eagerly 
bite  into  its  refreshing  juices.  We  shall  increas- 
ingly find  that  the  good  becomes  better,  and  the 


THE    FINAL    CANDOUR         171 

better  becomes  best.  It  is  true  that  we  live  in  deeds, 
not  years.  It  is  by  descending  into  the  valley  of  the 
work-a-day  that  we  scale  the  radiant  mountains  of 
the  ideal,  just  as  the  massive  oak  that  thrusts  its 
top  against  the  sky  steadily  drives  its  roots  deeper 
and  deeper  into  the  nourishing  earth.  It  is  by  doing 
the  will  of  God  that  we  come  to  know  the  Person 
behind  that  will.  We  are  told  to  adorn  the  doctrine 
of  God  our  Saviour  in  all  things.  It  is  a  great, 
strong  truth,  invigorating  to  the  utmost.  Adorn 
the  doctrine  of  God — how?  Well,  a  musician 
adorns  the  doctrine  of  music,  not  by  looking  at  the 
sheet  alone,  but  by  building  the  written  notes  into 
rhythmic  palaces  of  sound.  An  artist  adorns  the 
doctrine  of  colour  by  painting  his  vision  upon  the 
canvas.  A  philosopher  adorns  the  doctrine  of 
philosophy  by  wisely  interpreting  it  to  his  students. 
Just  so  you  adorn  the  doctrine  of  God  when  it 
flashes  in  your  eyes,  transfigures  your  face,  inspires 
your  speech,  quickens  your  steps  upon  errands  of 
mercy,  rejoices  your  heart  in  the  doing  of  fine  and 
lovely  deeds.  No  matter  how  humble,  they  cannot 
be  lost.  Unknown  and  unsung  here,  they  shall  be 
well-known  and  sung  by  angels  there.  *'  For  noth- 
ing is  hid,  that  shall  not  be  made  manifest;  nor 
anything  secret,  that  shall  not  be  known  and  come 
to  light.'^ 


17^         THE    FINAL    CANDOUR 

IV 

Thought,  word,  and  deed  culminate  in  the  can- 
dour of  character.  What  we  are  is  simply  the  har- 
vest of  our  thinking,  speaking,  and  doing.  There- 
fore, each  of  us  should  solemnly  avow :  "  As  I  am 
compelled  to  live  on  intimate  terms  with  myself  for 
time  and  eternity,  it  behooves  me  to  make  the  best 
possible  self."  To  do  this  is  the  purpose  of  the 
Christ.  The  Christian  lives  the  grandly  co-operative 
life.  God  helps  him,  and  he  helps  God.  Thus  are 
we  saved  from  a  false,  artificial,  untrue  self  to  a 
genuine,  harmonious,  finely  articulated  personality. 
''Nature,"  wrote  the  late  Stopford  Brooke,  "is 
humanized,  spiritualized  by  us.  We  have  imprinted 
ourselves  on  all  things;  and  this  as  we  realize  it, 
as  we  give  thought  and  passion  to  lifeless  Nature, 
makes  us  understand  how  great  we  are,  and  how 
much  greater  we  are  bound  to  be.  We  are  the  end 
of  Nature  but  not  the  end  of  ourselves.  We  learn 
the  same  truth  when  among  us  the  few  men  of 
genius  appear;  stars  in  the  darkness.  We  do  not 
say:  'These  stand  alone;  we  never  can  become  as 
they.*  On  the  contrary,  we  cry :  '  All  are  to  be  what 
they  are,  and  more.  They  longed  for  more,  and 
they  and  we  shall  have  it.  All  shall  be  perfected; 
and  then,  and  not  till  then,  begins  the  new  age 
and  the  new  life,  new  progress  and  new  joy.'  " 
Judas  went  to  his  own  place  because  h£  would  not 
have  the  place  Love  prepared  for  him.    The  terror 


THE    FINAL    CANDOUR  173 

of  sin  is  that  it  gets  the  upper  hand  of  the  soul  that 
deHberately  says :  "  Evil,  be  thou  my  good."  But 
evil  can  never  be  good — anywhere,  anyhow,  any- 
when — because  evil  is  essentially  bad,  and  its  victim 
cries  out  at  last  with  Browning's  character :  ''  Why 
have  I  girt  myself  with  this  hell-dress?" 

But  it  is  our  high  task  to  weave  a  different  suit 
of  soul-clothing.  We  are  to  put  on  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  making  no  provision  for  the  things  of  the 
flesh,  to  fulfil  the  lusts  thereof.  We  are  to  dress 
our  inner  selves  in  whatsoever  things  are  true  and 
lovely  and  of  good  report.  Looking  out  the  other 
morning,  I  saw  wondrous  things  afoot  in  the  gor- 
geous east.  There  was  a  kind  of  moving  picture 
show  exhibiting  in  the  sky.  First  great  films  of 
saffron  came  out  on  the  hills  of  dawn  and  said: 
**  How  do  you  like  my  colours,  Mr.  Sleepy  Eyes  ? 
Are  they  not  fresh  enough  and  glorious,  too?" 
Soon  I  was  standing  at  the  window.  Then  the  saf- 
fron slides  were  quickly  shuffled  away  by  unseen 
hands  and  great  swaths  of  sapphire  came  and  said : 
"  I'm  a  magnificent  thief;  I  have  stolen  the  blue  of 
the  sea  and  lifted  it  up  here  on  the  heights  of  the 
young  morning."  Last  of  all,  an  immeasurable 
screen  of  vermilion  drifted  across  the  face  of  the 
clouds  and  said :  "  Saffron  may  be  golden,  sap- 
phire may  be  ocean-kissed,  but  vermilion,  if  you 
please,  is  the  very  latest  and  in  the  extreme  of  fash- 
ion." And  just  then  a  memorable  sight  occurred. 
The  great  sun  himself  cleared  the  horizon  and  said : 


174  THE    FINAL    CANDOUR 

"  O  man,  be  not  deceived  by  saffron  and  sapphire 
and  vermilion.  They  are  just  my  splendour-tinted 
children.  They  are,  because  I  am;  I  have  sent 
them;  it  is  I  myself  who  give  them  being."  And 
so  a  man's  thoughts,  words,  and  actions  are  the 
children  of  his  own  creation.  He  may  stand  below 
the  horizon  now  while  his  spiritual  progeny  but 
half  reveal  and  half  conceal  his  true  self.  But  he 
is  rising  with  all  the  force  of  gravity  to  the  inevi- 
table hour  of  self-publication.  God  will  both  bring 
to  light  the  hidden  things  of  darkness  and  reveal 
the  counsels  of  all  hearts;  and  then  shall  each  man 
have  his  praise  from  God.  For  nothing  is  hid, 
that  shall  not  be  made  manifest;  nor  anything  secret 
that  shall  not  be  known  and  come  to  light.  Where- 
fore, let  us  be  sons  of  the  morning,  walking  in  the 
light  as  He  is  in  the  light,  and  when  the  shadows 
are  fled  and  the  night  is  gone,  we  shall  see  face  to 
face,  know  as  we  are  known,  and  all  the  hushed 
voices  of  the  heart  will  break  into  full-throated 
song. 


XI 

THE  SHEPHERD  GOD 

Psalm  xxiii. 

BLESSED  is  the  man  who  writes  a  worthy 
national  song!  The  hearts  of  all  true 
patriots  are  grateful  to  him  who  expresses 
their  love  for  their  native  land.  But  what  shall  we 
say  of  a  poet  who  writes  a  song  uttering  the  deep- 
est sentiment  of  all  nations?  And  yet,  by  universal 
consent,  David  accomplished  this  high  service  in 
the  Twenty-third  Psalm.  Variously  have  men  at- 
tempted to  voice  their  appreciation  of  this  master- 
piece of  the  soul.  But  there  is  in  it  a  quality  which 
subtly  eludes  the  descriptive  power  of  all  high  and 
noble  words.  One  has  likened  it  unto  a  nightin- 
gale, because  it  sings  so  sweetly  in  the  valley  of 
shadows;  another  has  compared  it  unto  a  lark,jDe- 
cause  it  soars  so  high  into  the  skies  of  divine  love. 
My  own  comparison,  I  think,  should  be  that  of  a 
winged  minstrel,  soaring  over  all  seas,  flying 
through  all  lands,  entering  all  palaces,  all  hovels, 
all  dungeons;  standing  beside  all  graves,  all  sick 
bodies,  all  wounded  hearts,  all  little  children,  all 
men  and  all  women  of  high  and  low  degree — sing- 
ing— singing  to  all  the  happy  and  sad  folk  in  the 

175 


176         THE     SHEPHERD    GOD 

wide,  wide  world,  a  song  of  immortal  good  cheer 
and  sweet  good  will.  But  no  matter  unto  what  we 
liken  this  fragile  ii  8-word  heart-chant,  there  is 
ever  and  always  something  which  refuses  to  be 
caught  and  expressed  in  words.  For  the  incompara- 
ble cannot  yield  its  total  self  to  inadequate  com- 
parisons. 


I 

The  first  figure  under  which  David  thinks  of  God 
is  that  of  a  Shepherd :  "  The  Lord  is  my  shep- 
herd." How  many  millions,  out  of  countless  gen- 
erations of  young  and  old,  of  happy  and  sad,  of 
healthy  and  sick,  of  victor  and  vanquished,  have 
uttered  the  words — uttered  them  out  of  hearts 
hushed  by  a  sense  of  "  stilled  singing,"  out  of  souls 
made  strong  by  simple  trust  in  the  Everlasting 
Goodness.  Evidently  this  man  has  thought  his  way 
in  beneath  the  foundations  of  the  universe;  he  has 
broken  through  into  the  heart  of  being,  into  the 
soul  of  reality,  and  finds  it  very  good.  For  what 
has  he  discovered  in  his  vast  adventure?  Just 
this:  All-power  and  All-tenderness  are  as  won- 
drously  interwoven  as  the  sun  and  the  sunbeam! 
"  Jehovah  " — "  The  Lord  " — Omnipotence,  that 
wears  the  worlds  as  lightly  as  a  rose  wears  a  dew- 
drop;  Wisdom,  that  calls  the  constellations  by  name 
and  all  make  answer,  *'  Here  we  are";  Mind,  that 
knows  the  career  of  every  sea  and  every  raindrop; 


THE     SHEPHERD    GOD  177 

Heart,  that  keeps  the  address  of  every  angel  and 
every  mortal — this  Immeasurable  Strength  is  syn- 
onymous with  Infinite  Tenderness.  The  bound- 
lessly great  is  the  fathomlessly  gentle :  ''  The  Lord 
is  my  shepherd." 

Here,  indeed,  is  the  superlative  genius  of  spirit- 
ual appropriation.  First,  it  manifests  itself  in  the 
heart's  present  tense  of  vision  and  insight.  ''  The 
Lorij^isJ^;^ — "^*  ^^^^  Lord  was,  or  the  Lord  will  be! 
Half  the  meaning  of  religious  values  is  swallowed 
up  in  abysmal  past  tenses  and  future  speculations. 
Let  no  man  belittle  the  past  or  curtain  off  the 
future;  for  the  soul  that  fails  to  reverence  the  one 
and  draw  hope  from  the  other  is  a  spiritual  infant, 
bound  about  by  religious  swaddling  bands.  Never- 
theless, to  hark  back  or  leap  forward  is  so  strong 
in  human  nature,  that  there  is  grave  peril  of  over- 
looking the  present,  active,  guiding,  living  God. 
The  past  is  great  and  sacred,  but  no  past  can  ever 
be  as  great  and  sacred  as  the  God  that  is — the  lov- 
ing, righteous  Father  now  abroad  on  His  mission 
of  recovery.  The  future,  also,  must  be  increas- 
ingly more  splendid  and  glorious,  but  no  future 
must  be  allowed  to  eclipse  the  splendour  of  the  God 
that  is — "  the  God  of  peace,  who  brought  again 
from  the  dead  the  great  shepherd  of  the  sheep  with 
the  blood  of  an  eternal  covenant,  even  our  Lord 
Jesus." 

The  second  way  in  which  the  genius  of  spiritual 
appropriation    asserts    itself    breaks    out,    like    a 


178  THE     SHEPHERD     GOD 

spiritual  fountain,  in  that  golden  little  possessive 
pronoun,  '"  My  shepherd."  ''  But  is  not  that  rather 
presumptuous  ? "  inquires  an  inhabitant  of  the 
polar  regions  of  religion.  ''  How  could  any  one 
dare  say  that  the  God  of  All-wisdom  and  All-power 
cares  for  an  infinitesimal  me?"  After  all,  that  is 
not  a  very  brilliant  question,  though  skepticism 
stupidly  overworks  it,  even  on  the  basis  of  com- 
mon sense  and  observation.  Look  about  you  these 
May  days.  The  grass  is  exceedingly  busy.  Every 
blade  works  from  dawn  to  dark  making  the  earth- 
carpet  a  trifle  greener;  and  then  every  blade  sits  up 
all  night,  threading  dewy  necklaces  that  would 
grace  the  throat  of  a  queen.  And  every  blade  is 
also  a  practical  philosopher,  a  disciple  of  common 
sense  out  there  in  the  big  June-coming  world  of 
nature.  For  this  is  what  I  hear  each  sprig  of  green 
saying:  "The  sun  is  my  sun;  yes,  the  sun  \s  my 
sun."  ''How  dare  you  be  so  presumptuous?"  I 
argue  with  the  frail  blade.  ''  Why,  the  sun  is  sunk 
ninety-five  millions  of  miles  in  space;  the  sun  is 
the  centre  of  the  solar  system;  the  sun  is  so  busy 
looking  after  planets  that  he  has  no  time  for  a 
sprig  of  grass."  And  so,  having  pronounced  such 
a  destructive  intellectual  broadside,  I  strut  away, 
convinced  that  wisdom  will  die  with  me  and — my 
ilk!  But  faintly,  sweetly,  trustingly,  the  blade  of 
grass  calls:  "  O,  Mr.  Wise  Man,  if  the  sun  has  no 
time  for  a  blade  of  grass,  will  you, please  explain 
how  /  came  to  be?  "     Unable  to  answer  so  simple 


THE     SHEPHERD    GOD  179 

a  question,  my  anger  reaches  a  white-hot  tempera- 
ture as  I  still  hear  the  silvery  chant :  "  The  sun 
is  my  sun;  yes,  the  sun  is  my  sun."  O,  no!  there 
is  no  presumption  in  a  soul  feeling  what  David  says : 
"  The  Lord  is  my  shepherd."  There  is  awe,  there 
is  faith,  there  is  wonder,  there  is  love,  there  is 
mystery,  there  is  joy  unutterable;  but  no  shallow- 
hearted,  thin-souled,  atheistic  presumption  can  live 
in  that  fine  air! 

Possessing  this  genius  of  spiritual  appropriation, 
what  follows?  Well,  when  a  man  owns  the  uni- 
verse is  it  not  reasonable  for  him  to  enjoy  some  of 
its  luxuries,  to  be  partaker  of  its  highest  benefits? 
It  would  seem  so.  Because  the  Shepherd-God  de- 
lights to  be  claimed  for  its  very  own  by  each  soul, 
because  the  everlastingly  strong  hurries  to  meet  the 
everlastingly  frail,  the  psalmist  strikes  the  first  note 
in  his  lyric  of  repose :  "  He  maketh  me  to  lie  down 
in  green  pastures."  Both  the  shepherd  and  the 
sheep  are  instructive  here.  Does  not  the  efficiently 
good  shepherd  lead  his  flock  into  lush,  green  pas- 
tures? His  ability  is  manifest  in  avoiding  the  dry, 
desolate  tracts.  Furthermore,  does  a  shepherd 
worthy  of  the  name  desire  anything  but  the  best 
for  his  sheep?  The  great  and  tender  God  is  like 
that!  He  longs  for  men  to  have  the  best.  He 
could  not  be  God  were  He  satisfied  for  us  never  to 
be  moved  by  aching  dissatisfactions.  That  is  why, 
at  times,  the  Great  Shepherd  leads  us  far  afield. 
We  like  to  nibble  in  the  beaten  paths.     We  com- 


U 


180  THE     SHEPHERD     GOD 

placently  assume  that  nearby  weeds  are  more  nour- 
ishing than  far-off  green  pastures,  difficult  of  at- 
tainment. But  God  is  a  Man  of  War,  also,  and  He 
greatly  makes  war  upon  our  smug  compromises  and 
low-flying  goals.  Sounding  the  command  to  break 
unheroic  camp,  He  leads  us  over  moor  and  fen 
and  desert  and  torrent  into  emerald  pasture  lands 
of  unwithering  reality.  Once  arrived  in  the  Land 
of  Living  Green,  like  all  men  who  have  tasted  the 
best,  we  begin  to  wonder  how  we  ever  endured  the 
second-rate  and  commonplace,  to  say  nothing  of 
the  worst! 

Moreover,  there  is  something  deeply  suggestive 
in  the  position  of  a  green-pastured  sheep.  *'  He 
maketh  me  to  lie  down."  The  fact  is,  a  hungry 
sheep  is  a  restless  sheep:  it  may  fall  into  a  heap 
from  exhaustion;  but  as  long  as  an  ill-fed  sheep  is 
able  to  move,  it  will  keep  on  in  quest  of  food.  One 
of  the  first  things,  therefore,  that  the  oriental  shep- 
herd does  is  to  find  satisfying  pastures  for  his 
flock.  After  their  morning  meal  they  will  lie  down 
and  rest — not  before.  Is  it  not  sublimely  so  of  the 
souls  of  men  and  women?  Show  me  a  single  per- 
son enjoying  healthy  repose,  vital  spiritual  poise, 
rest  calm  and  deep  as  a  river  just  because  life's  tide 
is  flowing  full  and  free,  and  it  is  invariably  the 
spirit  centred  in  the  Ever-living  Heart  of  God. 
Nourished  upon  the  Bread  of  Heaven  alone,  man 
is  steadied  in  the  midst  of  life's  terrific  rush  and 
roar.     His  downsittings  and  uprisings  are  in  har- 


THE     SHEPHERD    GOD  181 

mony  with  eternal  rhythms.  He  keeps  up  with  the 
universe  because  he  constantly  dines  with  God. 
"  For  the  bread  of  God  is  that  which  cometh  down 
out  of  Heaven,  and  giveth  life  unto  the  world." 
''  Lie  down !  "  Yes,  it  is  one  of  the  supreme 
postures.  Good  for  sheep,  it  is  better  still  for  men. 
Try  it  when  you  go  to  the  country  this  summer. 
You  never  truly  see  the  sky  if  you  do  not  sometimes 
lie  down  and  look  at  it.  You  never  see  the  miracle 
of  the  grass  if  you  do  not  turn  a  strip  of  its  velvet 
greenness  into  a  bed,  lie  prone,  and  see  it  in  its 
brooklike,  quivering  loveliness.  Do  not  always 
stand  and  look  at  the  stars ;  lie  down  flat  upon  your 
back  and  let  those  blazing  immensities  report  a  bit 
of  their  grandeur  to  your  upturned,  enraptured  eyes. 
And  if  you  want  a  tree  to  recite  all  of  its  poetry 
of  bloom,  fragrance,  shapeliness,  and  mystery  to 
you,  lie  down  under  it.  If  a  bird — even  a  vesper- 
souled  thrush — thinks  enough  of  you  to  regard  the 
tree  as  a  sylvan  choir  loft,  ascends  it  and  sings  to 
you  as  you  wonder,  watch,  and  pray,  so  much 
more  acceptable  shall  be  your  worship  and  retreat. 
Whatever  you  do,  be  sure  to  lie  down  under  your 
favourite  tree.  Old  friends  before,  I  think  you 
will  become  lovers  at  once,  changing  eyes  on  the 
spot,  to  remain  lovers  until  you  and  the  tree  go  the 
way  of  the  unreturning.  Though  the  tree  may  not 
carry  the  memory  of  you  back  into  its  native  dust, 
I  trust  you  will  carry  the  memory  of  that  tree  up 
:ond  beyond  the  dust-heaps  of  matter  into  the  mom- 


182  THE     SHEPHERD     GOD 

ing  realms  of  spirit,  where  the  Tree  of  Life  shall 
forever  stretch  its  perfumed  branches  above  your 
enchanted  gaze. 

But,  ah  me !  if  we  have  to  lie  down  to  get  pecu- 
liar glimpses  of  physical  objects,  how  much  more 
essential  is  it  to  "  lie  down,"  now  and  then,  to  be- 
hold all  of  God,  all  of  life,  we  are  capable  of 
beholding.  How  poor  the  race  would  be  were  it 
robbed  of  the  spiritual  viewpoints  revealed  only  to 
those  high  souls  who  have  been  made  to  lie  down! 
For  it  is  while  lying  down  that  men  peel  the  skin 
from  the  body  of  the  physical  universe  only  to  see 
the  heart  of  God,  only  to  vision  those  plangent, 
plunging  tides  of  love  which  flow  through  the  veins 
of  the  cosmos  of  matter  and  of  spirit.  "  He  maketh 
me  " — it  is  the  compulsion  of  infinite  tenderness — 
''  to  lie  down  " — it  is  Heaven's  invitation  to  new 
visions  of  spiritual  scenery — "  in  green  pastures  " 
— it  is  the  entrance  into  watered  gardens  of  un- 
fading reality.  "  He  leadeth  me  beside  the  still 
waters.  He  restoreth  my  soul :  He  guideth  me  in 
the  paths  of  righteousness  for  His  name's  sake." 

One  would  like  to  linger  over  each  of  these 
phrases ;  but  art  is  brief,  time  is  short,  and  sermons 
must  not  be  too  long.  However,  almost  every 
word  of  the  fourth  verse  is  so  suggestive  as  to 
command  a  momentary  pause.  "  Yea,  though  I 
walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death, 
I  will  fear  no  evil;  for  Thou  art  with  me;  Thy  rod 
and  Thy  staff,  they  comfort  me.'* 


THE     SHEPHERD    GOD         183 

"How  does  he  take  the  valley?" — that  is  our 
question.  Why,  he  walks,  being  still  a  courageous 
pilgrim.  He  is  in  no  jostling,  pushing,  bustling 
hurry.  There  is  still  a  certain  majestic  leisureli- 
ness  in  his  movement;  for  the  man  who  spends  his 
life  walking  with  God  walks  on  unaffrighted 
through  the  dusky  ranks  of  shadows  that  would 
intercept  him.  Ah !  I  wonder  if  the  King  of  Terrors 
does  not  forget  his  terror  in  sheer  admiration  of 
the  pilgrim's  walk?  What  if  the  King  should  be 
frightened  by  the  confusing  bravery  of  the  sub- 
ject !  "  There  are  many  things  I  have  not  yet 
seen,"  says  this  tourist  from  world  to  world. 
"  Death  is  one  of  them.  I  shall  now  see  the  Great 
Mystery  as  I  walk  from  life  abundant  to  life  more 
abundant."  Nothing  spells  the  man  like  behaviour 
under  difficulties.  Tin-foil  heroes  may  shimmer 
and  shine  in  the  sunlight;  but  when  the  sun  itself 
has  become  a  vast  shadow,  the  tin-foiler  is  at  a 
discount.  Yet  in  the  midst  of  the  make-believe's 
embarrassment  the  disciple  of  reality  comes  to  his 
own.  He  says :  "  I  will  walk  *  through  ' — not 
over,  nor  under,  nor  around,  but  'through;  '  any- 
thing capable  of  being  penetrated  must  have  some- 
thing on  the  other  side  of  it;  so  this  shadowy  some- 
thing must  be  a  kind  of  magic  door  opening  into  the 
Heart's  Home  of  Fulfillment.  Yes,  I  will  walk 
'  through.'  "  Walk  through  what  ?  ''  The  valley r 
Believe  me,  my  friends,  the  valley  is  not  a  bad  place. 
The  home  of  my  childhood  nestles  in  a  valley,  with 


184         THE    SHEPHERD    GOD 

the  hills  bastioning  it  round.  Many  a  time  have  I 
heard  the  thunder  chariots  roll  above  the  hills;  but 
those  hills  seemed  like  great  silent  sentinels,  com- 
manding the  storm.  *'  Play  about  our  rugged  sum- 
mits," they  seemed  to  say,  "  but  spare  the  valley — 
spare  the  valley!"  And  when,  betimes,  the  light- 
ning rips  his  sword  of  flame  from  a  black  sheath  of 
cloud,  some  valiant,  kingly  old  oak  of  the  hills 
rings  forth  the  challenge :  "  Whet  your  glittering 
sword  upon  my  gnarled  body,  but  spare  the  valley 
— spare  the  valley !  "  Ah !  there  is  heavenly  quiet 
and  surpassing  rest  in  the  valley,  even  while  the 
storm  is  booming  through  the  encircling  hills.  And 
I  have  come  to  think  that  the  hills  called  Calvary 
and  Olivet  so  guard  the  quiet  valley  into  which  we 
all  sooner  or  later  pass,  that  death  hath  no  storms 
able  to  disturb  the  serenity  of  a  soul  held  in  the 
gripping  love-clasp  of  the  Good  Shepherd.  Laying 
down  His  life  for  the  sheep,  he  took  it  again  that 
the  sheep  might  not  be  unduly  frightened  as  they 
wind  through  the  shadow-hung  valley.  The  sub- 
stance being  gone,  nothing  remains  there  now — 
only  shadow.  For  the  law  of  the  spirit  of  life  in 
Christ  Jesus  hath  made  us  free  from  the  law  of 
sin  and  death.  Therefore,  we  will  fear  no  evil — 
not  even  imaginary  evil,  in  some  respects  the  most 
terrible  of  all;  for  He  is  with  us,  both  Here  and 
There;  His  rod  and  staff  comfort  us  as  we  pass 
into  and  through  the  enshadowed  valley  leading  to 
the  Lustrous  Portals  of  Home.     "  Who  can  tell," 


THE     SHEPHERD    GOD         185 

asked  Euripides,  "  but  that  which  we  call  life  is 
really  death,  from  which  what  we  call  death  is  an 
awakening  ?  " 


II 

The  second  metaphor  under  which  David  thinks 
of  God  is  that  of  a  Host :  ''  Thou  preparest  a  table 
before  me  in  the  presence  of  mine  enemies."  But 
let  no  one  think  that  the  psalmist  has  in  mind  an 
indoors  banqueting  hall.  Far  from  it!  He  is  still 
thinking  of  the  enchantingly  golden  out-of-doors, 
with  no  roof  but  the  starry  dome,  with  no  walls  but 
the  many-tinted  horizon,  with  no  floors  but  the 
sweet-smelling  sod.  Table  here  literally  means 
"  something  spread  out."  How,  then,  does  a  shep- 
herd of  the  east  prepare  a  table  for  his  sheep  ?  Here 
and  there  ground  moles  bore  holes  just  under  the 
surface  of  the  soil.  Snakes  find  these  holes  very 
convenient  hiding  places,  and  crawl  into  them. 
Not  infrequently  they  bite  the  noses  of  the  sheep, 
when  their  "  table "  has  not  been  properly  pre- 
pared. One  way  by  which  the  shepherd  expels  the 
snakes  is  burning  the  fat  of  hogs  along  the  ground. 
Going  ahead  of  the  sheep,  he  thus  prepares  for  their 
coming.  Other  enemies  are  the  poisonous  plants, 
which  the  shepherd  must  destroy.  And  still  other 
enemies  are  jackals,  hyenas,  panthers,  and  wolves. 
From  hole  or  cave  or  hillside  these  sheep-enemies 
look  ferociously  upon  the  flock  in  their  feeding- 


186  THE     SHEPHERD    GOD 

ground.  Notwithstanding  the  shepherd's  presence, 
sometimes  they  boldly  attack  before  his  very  eyes 
and  endeavour  to  make  way  with  the  hapless  vic- 
tim. 

And  the  City  of  Mansoul  is  besieged  by  many 
enemies.  Without  and  within,  they  gnash  their 
teeth  upon  us.  The  snake,  the  wolf,  the  jackal,  the 
hyena,  the  lion,  and  the  bear — ah!  how  cunningly 
they  disguise  themselves  in  "  silver  skin  laced  with 
golden  blood,"  walk  on  two  feet  instead  of  four, 
only  to  prove  that  the  animal  is  less  cruel  than  the 
man  because  less  ingenious !  And  then  those  sub- 
tle enemies  within  us — those  smiling,  smirking,  in- 
sinuating little  devils  of  slander,  envy,  impurity, 
and  ease — how  they  whip  us  away  from  God's  great 
outspread  table  of  goodness,  beauty,  holiness,  and 
peace!  Yet  doth  God  come  out  into  the  open  and 
fight  for  us.  Gethsemane,  Calvary,  and  the  De- 
spoiled Tomb — these  things  were  not  done  in  a 
corner,  but  out  under  the  wide-open  gaze  of  the 
worlds.  Therefore,  let  enemies  gather  from  the 
four  quarters  of  the  universe,  our  Lord  goes  right 
on  preparing  our  table  in  their  snarling,  howling, 
hissing  presence.  Like  Dante,  in  the  midst  of  this 
our  mortal  life,  we  are  still  met  in  the  way  by  the 
Spotted  Panther  of  Worldly  Pleasure,  *'  light  and 
swift  exceedingly  ";  by  the  Lion  of  Ambition,  with 
uplifted  head  and  ravenous  hunger,  so  that  the 
very  air  seems  afraid  of  him;  by  the  ^he-wolf  of 
Avarice,  gaunt  with  all  hungerings,  and  who  hath 


THE    SHEPHERD    GOD         187 

caused  many  folk  to  live  forlorn.  But  no  matter! 
Let  the  heathen  rage,  let  kings  and  kaisers  imagine 
vain  things,  let  hell  turn  itself  upside  down  and 
empty  fumes  of  the  pit  upon  the  green  pastures 
discovered  unto  men  by  the  Good  Shepherd!  Yet 
will  we  not  fear,  because  the  pastures  are  more 
vital  and  vernal  than  the  fumes  are  poisonous  and 
deadly.  He  who  out  of  the  fire-mist  prepared  a 
planet  for  man  to  get  a  start  up  the  Hills  of  Eter- 
nity, is  now  upon  those  high  hills  of  life  preparing 
a  place  for  man  to  work  forever  on  and  never  grow 
weary,  preparing  a  home  in  which  man  shall  live 
and  love  forever  and  a  day  and  still  go  on  forever 
wondering  at  love's  inexhaustible  fulness. 

Finally,  there  are  just  two  more  of  these  be- 
jewelled orientalisms.  **  He  anointeth  my  head 
with  oil."  The  shepherd  and  the  sheep  are  back 
from  the  fields,  and  he  is  standing  at  the  door  of 
the  sheepfold.  For  it  is  evening  now,  and  the 
sheep  are  being  folded  for  the  night.  Witness  now 
the  rodding  of  the  sheep!  As  the  sheep  pass  into 
the  fold,  the  shepherd  holds  each  one  back  with  his 
rod,  inspecting  every  one.  Here  is  his  horn  filled 
with  olive  oil,  and  here,  also,  is  his  cedar-tar. 
There  comes  a  sheep  with  a  bleeding  head  or  a 
bruised  knee  or  a  thorn-pricked  side.  Oh,  the 
soothing  touch  of  the  oil  and  tar !  But  it  seems  to 
me  that  the  exceeding  tenderness  of  the  shepherd 
is  pictured  in  the  words:  "  My  cup  runneth  over." 
For  here  comes  a  sheep  that  is  neither  torn  nor 


188  THE     SHEPHERD     GOD 

bleeding  nor  bruised.  The  poor  thing  is  just  tired 
out,  exhausted,  and  panting  for  water.  First  of  all, 
the  shepherd  tenderly  bathes  the  tired  sheep's  face 
and  head  with  the  invigorating  olive-oil.  Then, 
plunging  his  large  two-handled  cup  into  a  nearby 
vessel  of  water,  he  brings  it  up  overflowingly  full 
and  lets  the  tired,  thirsty  sheep  drink  until  it  wants 
no  more. 

Thus,  in  the  light  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus 
Christ,  the  Shepherd  Psalm  is  one  of  the  greatest, 
richest,  and  simplest  interpretations  of  life  and  the 
universe  in  the  possession  of  the  race.  David 
looked  into  his  own  heart,  heard  the  music  of  mem- 
ory playing  there,  felt  that  the  Supreme  Being  who 
shepherds  the  worlds  through  space  cannot  be  less 
wise  and  kind  than  the  shepherd  who  leads  forth 
his  flock  into  green  pastures.  After  looking  and 
hearing  and  feeling,  he  sang  this  song  which,  if 
it  had  power  to  die,  would  in  the  act  of  death  pass 
into  larger  life,  and  go  right  on  singing  through 
the  applausive  halls  of  time  and  eternity.  ''  Surely 
goodness  and  mercy  shall  follow  me  all  the  days 
of  my  life;  and  I  shall  dwell  in  the  house  of  the 
Lord  forever." 


XII 

THE  LARGER  EDUCATION 

**  But  go  ye  and  leant  what  this  meaneih."—ST.  Matt,  ix:  13. 

WHEN  our  Lord  speaks,  the  universities  of 
the  world  may  becomingly  stop,  look,  and 
listen.  For,  if  men  are  not  in  His  path 
of  truth,  they  are  in  peril;  if  they  see  not  with 
His  sun-glorious  vision,  they  are  Wind;  if  they 
hear  not  His  soulful  symphonies  of  spiritual  reality, 
they  are  deaf  indeed.  Now,  spiritually  speaking, 
these  Pharisees  were  blind  enough  and  deaf  enough. 
What  a  pity  that  they  were  not  dumb  enough !  Yet 
the  secret  of  religious  deafness  and  blindness  is 
its  monumental  loquacity.  Usually,  men  are  dif- 
fident in  expressing  opinions  on  subjects  with  which 
they  are  unfamiliar.  Is  it  not  so  of  the  wise  doctor, 
lawyer,  scientist?  In  chemistry,  men  Hsten  to 
Levoisier;  in  astronomy,  to  Herschel;  in  pottery, 
to  Wedgewood;  in  poetry,  to  Shakespeare;  in 
philosophy,  to  Plato;  in  music,  to  Beethoven.  Each 
science,  each  branch  of  learning,  has  its  recognized 
authority. 

But  in  the  imperial  subject  of  religion,  every  man 
has  his  fling.  Pathetic  and  foolish  as  it  often  is, 
the  situation  is  at  least  suggestive.     It  asserts,  in 

189 


190     THE  LARGER   EDUCATION 

the  first  place,  that  man  is  ''  incurably  religious." 
Aristotle  called  man  a  political  animal;  but  it  were 
far  truer  to  say  that  man  is  a  religious  being.  And 
this,  I  take  it,  is  why  men  who  are  loath  to  express 
opinions  upon  subjects  they  know  nothing  about, 
are  quite  willing  to  speak  freely  and  foolishly  upon 
the  synthetic  interest  of  our  lives — religion. 

But  the  second  and  deeper  thing  of  this  pro- 
pensity to  discuss  religion  comes  very  close  to  the 
innermost  secret  of  Christianity.  Being  constitu- 
tionally religious,  Christ  proposes  to  make  every 
man  an  authority  on  His  religion.  Not,  mark  you, 
an  authority  on  theories,  or  ethics,  or  philosophies 
about  His  religion — interesting  and  worthful  as 
they  undoubtedly  are — but  upon  the  thing  itself; 
upon  the  vital,  pulsing,  quivering  reality,  which 
beats  its  music  out  in  manifold  expressions,  yet 
rests  its  throbbing  activities  down  upon  the  central, 
basic,  elemental  life  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus,  our 
Lord.  "  Ye  shall  know  the  truth,  and  the  truth 
shall  make  you  free."  Can  you  imagine  a  finer, 
vaster,  more  glorious,  more  satisfying  freedom 
than  that?  Freed  by  Christ's  truth,  man's  soul 
transmutes  the  flames  of  hell  into  perfume.  Know- 
ing Christ's  truth,  and  the  consciousness  of  ulti- 
mate reality  He  gives,  man  has  the  freedom  of  the 
universe.  All  goodness,  all  beauty,  all  hope,  all  love, 
all  high  and  sweet  societies,  all  time,  all  space,  all 
worlds  are  his,  though  the  ages  to  come  may  be 
necessary  to  bring  their  complete  realization. 


THE  LARGER  EDUCATION      191 

"  I  spoke  as  I  saw. 
I  report,  as  man  may,  of  God's  work — all's  Love,  yet  all's 

Law. 
Now  I  lay  down  the  judgeship  he  sent  me.     Each  faculty 

tasked, 
To  perceive  Him,  has  gained  an  abyss  where  a  dewdrop 

was  asked." 

And  is  it  not  always  so?  We  ask  for  a  dew- 
drop;  He  gives  an  abyss  of  wonder  and  beauty. 
We  ask  for  a  ray  of  hope;  into  life's  sky  He 
flashes  Love's  unfading  rainbow.  We  ask  for  dear 
human  friendships;  He  gives  the  society  of  angels, 
of  the  noble  living  and  the  noble  dead — yea,  the 
very  life  of  God  Himself. 

Thus,  because  the  Pharisees  carped  when  the  Son 
of  God  proved  Himself  the  true  Son  of  Man  in 
minghng  with  publicans  and  sinners,  He  said: 
''  Your  education  in  the  great  things  is  inadequate. 
I  am  not  after  the  whole,  but  the  sick.  You  have 
not  learned  the  a  b  c  oi  the  larger  education.  God 
desires  mercy,  not  sacrifice.  I  came  not  to  call 
the  righeous,  but  sinners.  But  go  ye  and  learn 
what  this  meaneth.'^ 

Our  subject,  then,  is  '*  The  Larger  Education  " 
— our  School-house,  our  Teacher,  our  Diploma. 


The  first  factor  in  the  larger  education  is  this 
world  in  which  we  live  and  love  and  work  and  weep 
and  laugh  and  die.    For  in  no  mere  figurative  sense, 


19a     THE  LARGER  EDUCATION 

the  world  is  our  school-house.  Nothing  short  of 
this  vast,  mystic,  wondrous  world  justifies  the  in- 
stitutions of  learning  throughout  our  own  land, 
throughout  all  lands.  The  little  red  school-house 
on  the  hillside,  the  log  cabin  at  the  country  cross- 
roads, the  pile  of  buildings  emphasizing  the  im- 
portance of  the  modern  college  and  university,  the 
dream  of  a  Brooklyn  University  which  is  to  come 
true,  and  gloriously  true — all  exist  for  the  purpose 
of  showing  students  how  to  find  their  way,  physi- 
cally, mentally,  socially,  and  morally,  about  this 
great  school-house  named  the  world. 

Emerson  had  this  truth  in  mind  when  he  said: 
"  He  who  knows  the  most,  he  who  knows  what 
sweets  and  virtues  are  in  the  ground,  the  waters, 
the  plants,  the  heavens,  and  how  to  come  at  these 
enchantments,  is  the  rich  and  royal  man."  Ah! 
the  world  is  packed  with  enchantments,  and  educa- 
tion is  the  magician  whose  golden  hammer  breaks 
down  the  four  walls  of  the  class  room,  sending  the 
scholar  forth  to  behold  the  limitless  horizons  of  the 
world,  and  all  that  is  within  them.  Education  nat- 
uralizes us  as  citizens  of  the  universe.  Shame  on 
the  man  who  is  so  local  as  to  be  purely  national  or 
international,  when  God  wants  him  to  be  universal ! 
As  the  mystic  expressed  it :  "  The  universe,  vast 
and  deep  and  broad  and  high,  is  a  handful  of  dust 
which  God  enchants."  Ours  is  an  enchanted  uni- 
verse, and  oh,  what  unspeakable  splendours  lie 
hidden  within  this  handful  of  dust ! 


THE  LARGER  EDUCATION      193 

Let  me  use  an  illustration  with  which  the  twen- 
tieth century  student  is  familar.  Standing  here  in 
this  teeming  world,  the  imagination  flashes  back  to 
the  time  when  our  globe  was  a  fiery  mass  of 
nebulous  matter.  The  next  stage  **  consists  of 
countless  myriads  of  similar  atoms,  roughly  out- 
lined in  a  ragged  cloud-ball,  glowing  with  heat,  and 
rotating  in  space  with  inconceivable  velocity." 
Then  we  behold  the  transformation  of  this  cloud- 
mass  into  a  solid  earth.  But  how  ?  Well,  the  Divine 
Artificer,  through  mutual  attraction  and  chemical 
affinity,  caused  two  of  the  myriads  of  atoms  to 
fall  in  love  with  each  other.  And  sober  science  as- 
sures us  that  with  that  atomic  romance — the  very 
moment  those  two  atoms  were  married — the  vic- 
tory of  our  earth*s  evolution  was  won.  As  you  see, 
all  the  human  romances  through  all  the  human 
years,  owe  their  origin  to  that  first  pair  of  romantic 
atoms,  indissolubly  joined  in  wedlock  by  the  priestly 
hand  of  Infinite  Love  and  All-Wise  Intelligence ! 

If  the  cornerstone  of  our  school-house  was  laid 
in  that  far-off  dawn  of  time,  evidently  Someone 
has  been  at  considerable  patience  and  pains  to  equip 
our  Alma  Mater.  But  the  simple  truth  is,  we  never 
could  have  known  the  varied  magnificence  of  our 
school-house,  had  not  the  Angel  of  Education  come 
and  said :  "  Follow  me,  and  I  will  show  you  the 
grandeurs  of  your  world-home."  The  furniture 
was  all  here,  but  no  man  to  admire  it,  no  woman 
to  adorn  it.    Stars  sparkled  in  the  blue  roof  above; 


194     THE  LARGER  EDUCATION 

flowers  bloomed  in  the  green  carpet  below;  fires 
burned  in  the  deep  craters  within;  oceans  washed 
the  untrodden  shores  around.  But  there  were  no 
human  eyes  which — 

**  .   .   .  Overleapt  the  horizon's  edge, 
Searched  with  Apollo's  privilege; 
Through  man  and  woman  and  sea  and  star, 
Saw  the  dance  of  nature  forward  far; 
Through  worlds,  and  races,  and  terms,  and  times, 
Saw  musical  order  and  pairing  rhymes." 

No:  there  was  no  seeing  eye,  no  trained  human 
brain  to  appreciate  all  this.  For  millions  of  years, 
the  stars  waited  for  a  man  to  say :  "  I  shall  outlast 
thy  brilliance."  For  millions  of  years,  the  animal 
creation  waited  for  a  man  to  declare :  "  I  am  thy 
lord."  For  millions  of  years,  the  physical  forces 
waited  for  a  man  to  proclaim :  "  I  am  thy  master." 
Why,  the  gulf  between  the  untutored  Fiji  Islander 
and  the  cultured  Heights'  citizen  is  bridged  by  edu- 
cation. Does  not  the  savage  have  all  the  materials 
of  astronomy,  law,  literature,  medicine,  religion, 
electricity,  aeroplanes,  automobiles?  Having  the 
materials,  what  does  he  lack?  Why,  the  mental 
power  which  organizes  them  into  the  arts  and 
sciences  of  civilization. 

Properly  speaking,  our  school-house — the  great 
world — is  just  a  delicious  intellectual  feast,  and 
education  is  the  acquired  taste  for  enjoying  it.  It 
was  Ruskin's  deliberate  conclusion  "  that  the  great- 
est thing  a  human  soul  ever  does  in  this  world  is 


THE  LARGER  EDUCATION      195 

to  see  something,  and  tell  what  it  saw  in  a  plain 
way."  In  other  words,  our  school-house  is  wait- 
ing for  eyes  to  look  in  upon  and  appropriate  its 
beauties.  An  American  woman  was  leaving  an  art 
gallery  in  Florence.  As  she  took  nothing  in,  of 
course  she  brought  nothing  out.  Still,  she  ven- 
tured to  ask  the  venerable  caretaker :  "  Are  these 
all  the  pictures  you  have  to  show  ? "  His  soul 
soaked  in  beauty  for  fifty  years,  the  indignant  old 
picture-lover  replied :  "  Madam,  these  paintings 
are  not  on  trial.  It  is  the  visitors  who  are  on 
trial.'' 

And  each  one  of  us  is  greatly  on  trial  as  we 
go  up  and  down  our  world-school-house.  Why,  if 
we  had  eyes  to  see,  we  should  agree  with  Whitman 
that  "  a  mouse  is  miracle  enough  to  stagger  sex- 
tillions  of  infidels."  Or  is  it  just  because  of  its 
eery  miraculousness  that  some  of  us  are  so  heartily 
afraid  of  the  little  creature?  If  we  had  eyes  to 
see,  we  should  confound  the  real  estate  dealer  by 
saying:  "  The  land  is  yours,  the  landscape  is  mine." 
If  we  had  eyes  to  see,  we  should  talk  less  of  Italian 
sunsets,  and  be  often  enraptured  by  those  which 
hang  over  New  York  Bay.  For  it  is  forever  true 
that  "  though  we  travel  the  world  over  in  search  of 
the  beautiful,  we  must  carry  it  with  us,  or  we  find 
it  not." 

One  night  my  boy  asked  me  how  much  gold  there 
was  away  up  in  the  golden  stars.  Trying  to  make 
make  him  understand,   I  said :     **  Put  your  shoe 


196     THE  LARGER  EDUCATION 

down  in  the  dirt."  After  the  child  had  done  as  I 
told  him,  I  continued :  "  Now  lift  your  shoe,  look 
at  it,  and  you  will  see  the  very  stuff  out  of  which 
the  stars,  those  golden  holes  bored  in  the  floor  of 
heaven,  are  made,  my  boy."  Ah,  yes!  the  dirt  in 
our  backyards  is  every  whit  as  golden  as  that  which 
glows  in  the  spaces.  The  dust  the  vacuum  cleaner 
extracts  from  our  carpets  is  the  very  same  out  of 
which  rainbows  are  wrought  and  cloud-palaces  are 
built.  A  thing  of  beauty  is  indeed  a  joy  forever, 
and  the  fallacy  of  the  ages  is  to  think  that  it  re- 
quires distance  to  lend  it  enchantment.  The  soul 
that  finds  no  loveliness  in  this  world  would  gawk 
blind  as  a  bat  through  streets  of  shining  gold, 
though  harpers  harping  with  their  harps  serenaded 
him  every  step  of  the  way.  John  sinks  his  diamond 
drill  of  truth  into  awful  deeps  when  he  says :  "  He 
that  loveth  not  his  brother  whom  he  hath  seen, 
cannot  love  God  whom  he  hath  not  seen."  As  the 
far-away  lover  is  a  delusion,  a  snare,  a  myth,  a 
fog-bank,  so  the  soul  that  discovers  no  strip  of 
beauty,  no  stretch  of  loveliness,  no  glint  and  no 
gleam  in  the  world's  dusty  everydayness,  is  being 
ingloriously  defrauded  of  one  of  the  highest  and 
holiest  privileges  of  life.  And  the  great  Master 
and  Lord  of  all  is  still  saying:  "  Go  ye  and  learn 
what  this  meaneth — that  the  world  is  full  of  won- 
der, full  of  love,  full  of  beauty:  here  a  bird  that 
wings  and  sings,  yonder  a  star  that  shines  and 
wheels;  here  a  lily  that  holds  the  kisses  of  dew- 


THE  LARGER  EDUCATION      197 

drops  in  its  unsoiled  whiteness,  yonder  the  sun 
that  shines  upon  the  evil  and  the  good.  Be  clean- 
hearted,  clean-handed,  and  clean-tongued,  and  you 
shall  see  God."  Oh,  believe  me,  my  friends,  our 
school-house — 

**  The  rounded  world  is  fair  to  see, 
Nine  times  folded  in  mystery; 
Though  baffled  seers  cannot  impart 
The  secret  of  its  labouring  heart, 
Throb  thine  with  Nature's  throbbing  breast, 
And  all  is  clear  from  east  to  west. 
Spirit  that  lurks  each  form  within 
Beckons  to  spirit  of  its  kin ; 
Self-kindled  every  atom  glows, 
And  hints  the  future  which  it  owes." 


II 
With  much  interest  and  pleasure,  we  witness 
the  transfer  of  paintings  of  the  old  masters  from 
the  old  world  to  the  new.  The  older  civilizations 
have  much  to  teach  the  Republic  in  many  things — 
(and  there  is  no  more  thrilling  spectacle  going  on 
before  our  eyes  today  than  the  eagerness  with 
which  all  the  nations  are  learning  from  each  other) 
— but  especially  in  art.  We  have  been  so  busy  tun- 
nelling mountains,  channelling  rivers  into  desert 
places,  threading  the  continent  with  a  patch-work 
of  steel  rails,  and  throwing  sky-scrapers  at  the 
stars,  that  we  have  not  realized  the  national  ar- 
tistic development  which  is  yet  to  be  ours.  While 
we  are  going  by  thousands  every  year  to  visit  the 


198     THE  LARGER  EDUCATION 

older  civilizations,  they  are  not  so  unneighbourly 
as  not  to  return  the  call,  and  our  good  American 
gold  is  bringing  over  some  pictures  which  will  re- 
turn thither  no  more  forever. 

Still,  Mr.  Morgan's  paintings  are  not  the  only 
gift  the  old  world  is  making  us.  A  great  picture 
is  great,  but  a  great  man  is  greater.  A  master- 
piece is  the  conception  of  a  genius  dressed  up  in 
glowing  colours;  but  God's  masterpiece  is  a  flesh- 
and-blood  man — of  thought,  vision,  and  character 
vitally  compact.  And  that  is  why  we  should  heartily 
rejoice  when  Europe  sends  us  her  great  men  and  her 
great  books.  '*  Amid  all  that  is  problematic,"  says  one 
of  these  philosophers,  "  this  at  least  is  certain :  Our 
life  is  no  empty  surface-dallying.  Something  mo- 
mentously significant  is  going  forward  in  it,  a 
movement  with  which  we  ourselves  have  much  to 
do,  the  direction  of  which  we  are  quite  well  able 
to  gauge." 

So,  Life — this  strange,  wonderful,  many-col- 
oured, many-toned  something  named  Human  Life 
— is  our  Teacher.  Sometimes  the  teacher's  face 
is  severe,  sometimes  it  kindles  with  holy  rapture, 
sometimes  it  is  clothed  with  a  sphinxlike  silence. 
'*  To  me  the  ways  of  life  are  past  finding  out,"  a 
great  man  recently  wrote  me.  And  yet,  as  Pro- 
fessor Royce  reminds  us,  it  is  only  under  the  guid- 
ance of  this  unfailing  teacher  that  we  commence 
to  *'  look  for  the  whole  of  ourselves."  Man's  su- 
preme find  is  himself;  for  in  finding  his  true  self, 


THE  LARGER  EDUCATION     199 

he  must  find  the  God  who  made  him.    Then  do  we 
feel,  with  Fra  Lippo  Lippi : 

"  This  world  is  no  blot  for  us, 
Nor  blank;   it  means  intensely  and  means  good; 
To  find  its  meaning  is  my  meat  and  drink." 

And  to  find  life's  meaning,  we  must  be  grandly 
true  to  life.  In  one  of  his  penetrating  moods, 
Henry  Mills  Alden  wrote :  "  Love  never  denied 
Death,  and  Death  will  not  deny  Love."  And  I 
want  to  add:  Life,  which  is  the  ancestor  of  both 
Love  and  Death,  will  never  deny  either,  so  long  as 
they  are  loyal  to  Life;  and  they  both  belong  to 
Life,  too,  because  all  things  are  ours,  and  we  are 
Christ's,  and  He  is  the  Lord  of  Life!  Is  not  our 
teacher,  Life,  constantly  reminding  us  that,  though 
it  is  a  great  thing  to  go  through  college,  it  is  a 
greater  thing  to  have  college  go  through  us?  And 
this  is  only  possible  as  we  traverse  the  winding 
vistas  of  life  itself,  which  offers  a  generous  sphere 
for  exercising  all  the  talents  we  faithfully  add  to 
those  of  native  endowment. 

Are  we  following  our  Teacher?  Are  we  mas- 
tering the  lessons  He  assigns?  If  so,  we  shall 
attain  unto  the  wisdom  of  the  wise,  we  shall  ascend 
the  holy  hill  where  dwell  the  nobly  great.  For 
"  he  that  hearkeneth  to  the  reproof  of  life,  shall 
abide  among  the  wise."  Are  we  not  in  danger  of 
over-emphasizing  the  complexity  of  life  in  our 
time?    We  are  seriously  tempted  to  allow  the  tor- 


200     THE  LARGER  EDUCATION 

nado  of  buzz  and  bustle  to  blow  us  up  against  the 
edge  of  reality  only,  instead  of  invading  its  inmost 
heart.  We  need  to  remember  that,  in  all  times,  the 
true  and  lofty  souls  have  ever  found  a  sweet  sim- 
plicity nestling  within  the  deepest  heart  of  com- 
plexity. And  our  Concord  seer  is  still  calling  to  us 
from  under  his  noble  trees :  "  To  the  poet,  to  the 
philosopher,  to  the  saint,  all  things  are  friendly  and 
sacred,  all  events  profitable,  all  days  holy,  all  men 
divine.  For  the  eye  is  fastened  on  the  life,  and 
slights  the  circumstance.  Every  chemical  substance, 
every  plant,  every  animal  in  its  growth,  teaches  the 
unity  of  cause,  the  variety  of  appearance.  .  .  . 
Nature  is  an  endless  combination  and  repetition  of 
a  very  few  laws.  She  hums  the  old  well-known 
air  through  innumerable  variations."  Is  it  not  for 
us,  therefore,  to  listen  to  the  tunes,  the  variations, 
Life  is  ever  playing — the  undertones  as  well  as  the 
overtones,  the  minors  as  well  as  the  majors  ?  Men- 
delssohn once  wrote  to  his  sister :  '*  I  never  see  an 
ocean  or  a  mountain,  a  bird  or  a  human,  that  it 
does  not  cry  to  me :  *  Turn  me  into  music;  play  me 
on  the  organ.' "  And  is  not  our  teacher,  Life, 
calling  unto  us  to  do  the  same?  Arnold  of  Rugby 
confessed:  "If  ever  I  could  receive  a  new  boy 
from  his  father  without  emotion,  I  should  think 
it  was  high  time  to  be  off."  So  should  we  stand 
related  to  the  precious  gifts  of  Life.  Then  shall 
our  days  and  years  be  blended  into  spiritual  tapes- 
tries, into  Christian  symphonies.    Asked  how  long 


THE  LARGER  EDUCATION     201 

it  took  him  to  paint  a  certain  picture,  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds  answered:  "All  my  life,  sir/'  In  his 
old  age,  a  woman  inquired  of  Alexandre  Dumas 
how  he  had  grown  old  so  gracefully.  "  By  giving 
my  entire  time  to  it,  Madam !  "  was  the  sententious 
reply. 

Ill 

But  if  the  world  is  our  school-house  and  life  our 
teacher,  character  is  our  diploma.  In  its  deeper 
implications,  character  is  what  Lotze  calls  "  the  ca- 
pacity of  becoming  conscious  of  the  infinite.'* 
Laurence  Oliphant  means  character  when  he  says : 
"  Moral  truth  cannot  be  discovered  by  a  bad  man." 
Brierley  is  thinking  of  character  when  he  writes: 
"  We  require  a  certain  inner  height  to  discern  life's 
greatest  secret."  Bunsen  was  speaking  of  character 
when  he  said :  "  Gladstone  is  the  first  man  in 
England  as  to  intellectual  power,  and  he  has  heard 
higher  tones  than  anyone  else  in  the  land."  The 
American  philosopher  is  praising  character  when  he 
says :  *'  The  sweetest  music  is  not  in  the  oratorio, 
but  in  the  human  voice  when  it  speaks  from  its 
instant  life  tones  of  tenderness,  truth,  or  courage." 
According  to  Rothe,  the  universe  exists  for  the 
development  of  spiritual  personality,  by  the  con- 
flict of  free  will  with  circumstances,  in  all  worlds. 
Whether  the  German's  generalization  be  right  or 
wrong,  we  do  know  that  the  soul  that  has  in 
its  inmost  deep  the  shine  of  Christ-begotten  illu- 


20a     THE  LARGER  EDUCATION 

minations  is  unafraid  of  cosmic  weathers.  In  some 
sections  of  sunny  Italy  it  is  customary  for  a  bride 
to  make  what  is  known  as  her  fragrant  pillow.  Into 
this  silken  bag  she  puts  the  sweetest  flowers.  Year 
by  year,  as  time  flows  on,  she  adds  to  them.  And 
when,  soon  or  late,  she  lies  in  her  coffin,  this  fra- 
grant pillow,  wrought  of  flowers  gathered  through 
the  bright  and  stormful  years,  is  placed  under  her 
quiet  head.  And  what  is  character — the  soul's  di- 
ploma— but  Hfe's  perfumed  pillow?  More  ethereal 
than  ether,  more  elusive  than  odour,  yet  character 
is  more  powerful  than  radium,  more  pervasive  than 
oxygen,  more  durable  than  the  stars! 

Going  about  our  school-house  and  learning  the 
lessons  of  our  teacher,  we  shall  daily  receive  holy 
compensations,  heavenly  enrichments,  beautiful  sur- 
prises. Alice  Freeman  Palmer  one  day  told  a 
friend  how  her  husband.  Professor  George  H.  Pal- 
mer, surprised  her,  on  their  wedding  anniversary, 
with  a  "  great  shining  opal  ring,  set  round  with 
diamonds."  One  evening,  four  months  before,  they 
were  strolling  along  a  street  in  Paris.  Coming  to 
a  jeweller's  fascinating  windows,  they  discovered 
this  opal  ring,  with  its  tints  of  green  and  gold, 
richer  and  deeper  than  they  had  ever  seen  before. 
Mrs.  Palmer  said :  "  We  looked  at  it  with  delight 
and  often  afterwards  searched  for  it,  but  could 
never  find  it  again.  Fancy  how  my  breath  was 
taken  away,  when  just  now  that  identical  ring  was 
put  on  my  finger!    That  base  deceiver  had  helped 


THE  LARGER  EDUCATION 

me  look  for  it  many  a  time  after  it  was  safely 
hidden  in  his  pocket.  And  now  here  it  is,  with  the 
splendour  of  the  sun  at  its  heart,  and  changing  into 
fresh  beauty  whenever  I  look  at  it.  That,  dear 
friend,  is  like  married  life,  isn't  it?  All  things  made 
new  every  morning  and  evening." 

Is  not  this  the  spirit  of  the  larger  education — 
finding  a  mystic  newness  in  our  humanity  and  the 
wonder-teeming  world  day  by  day?  All  things  are 
constantly  made  new  to  the  life  that  homes  in  the 
Divine  Goodness.  For  Christ  gladly  lends  His  eyes 
to  souls  having  faith  enough  to  borrow  them.  Then 
do  men  see  life  and  destiny  from  His  viewpoint. 
He  alone  imparts  that  spiritual  wide-awakeness,  that 
soulful  alertness  which  grows  the  healthy,  rich- 
toned,  forward-looking  human.  And,  my  friends, 
if  we  are  true,  our  teacher,  Life,  will  ever  bring 
noble  surprises,  the  fine  stuff  of  Christlike  character 
to  us — great  flashing  opals  of  the  spirit — if  we 
follow  with  listening,  obedient  souls  to  the  fair 
tablelands  whither  He  guides.  Abiding  upon  those 
majestic  heights,  we  shall  realize,  with  Channing, 
that  life  is  a  gift  which  acquires  greater  value  every 
day.  In  accordance  with  Christ's  voice,  we  shall 
learn  that  mercy  is  greater  than  sacrifice,  that  truth 
is  more  wonderful  than  fiction,  that  the  reality 
surpasses  the  dream,  that  goodness  is  superior  to 
greatness,  and  that  love  will  outshine  brilliance  in 
the  Day  of  Days. 

O,   glorious   School-house,   marvellous  Teacher, 


204     THE  LARGER  EDUCATION 

unfading  Diploma!  It  is  great  to  dream,  greater 
to  do,  greatest  of  all  to  be,  and,  therefore,  let  this 
be  our  canticle  of  character : 

"  Great  are  the  symbols  of  being,  but  that  which  is  symboled 

is  greater; 
Vast  to  create  and  uphold,  but  vaster  the  inward  creator. 
Back  of  the  sound  broods  the  silence,  back  of  the  gift  stands 

the  giving; 
Back  of  the  hands  that  receive  thrill  the  sensitive  nerves 

of  receiving. 

Space  is  as  nothing  to  spirit,  the  deed  is  outdone  by  the 

doing ; 
The  heart  of  the  wooer  is  warm,  but  warmer  the  heart  of 

the  wooing; 
And  up  from  the  pits  where  these  shiver,  and  up  from  the 

heights  where  those  shine. 
Twin  voices  and  shadows  swim  starward,  and  the  essence 

of  life  is  divine." 


PRINTED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 


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